


The World Turned Upside Down

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Modern magic AU, Multi, i am incapable of writing people being genuinely happy but im great at sarcasm, lets pretend its still 2014, psa i changed the title just in case anyone was confused, some characters may or may not be monsters you'll have to read to find out, there are monsters also, theres like cool powers and mystery and lots of pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6505888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time he met Michael Jones, we was almost convinced it was a dream. </p><p>The subsequent meetings and strange occurrences that seem to follow him around kind of put a stop to that theory pretty quickly, though. So Gavin is just going to have to deal with this being his new reality now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unconventional First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> *waves hands* GUESS WHAT I'M NOT DEAD. Enjoy this... whatever it is. Expect a constant update schedule up to chapter four, cuz that's how much I've written already. Anyways, have fun with this, I know I am. (PS title comes from the song Yorktown (the world turned upside down) from Hamilton)

The first time he met Michael Jones he was half asleep and convinced he had dreamed the entire encounter. Looking back at what happened that night, who could honestly blame him?

He was standing in the checkout line at a Walmart at three in the morning and the only part of his brain not wondering why the hell he was there was yelling mutedly at the other customers to move faster. That should have been the first hint that something had gone horribly wrong in the grand plan of his life.

The plan was this: get good at filming things, preferably in slow motion. Get famous and in turn work with famous people. Get rich. That was about as far as his life plan went, and while it wasn’t anything particularly original it was enough to satisfy an 18-year-old getting ready to move to America. Two years later and a shitty Nikon camera he was living in a shittier two-person apartment with the reason he was at a Walmart at three in the morning. If that didn’t say something about how his grand plan worked out, he wasn’t sure what would.

The air in the superstore was heavy and everyone seemed to move slowly. Gavin’s newfound pessimism toward life in general didn’t do much to lift his mood. In front of him there was a man in a crumpled business suit chugging coffee like a drowning man, an array of different caffeinated drinks clutched in his hands to purchase. Gavin wondered who he’d pissed off to be in such a situation.

There was a girl with bubble gum pink hair, the roots growing in brown. She was just finishing buying what looked like junk food and beer for some kind of party. He wasn’t completely sure she was old enough to be purchasing alcohol in America, but he doubted the tired woman behind the register really cared.

And then there was Gavin, drowning in a hoodie and getting dragged through the cold tile floor by the gallon of milk he was holding, getting slowly choked out on the strange monotony of his life, punctuated every so often by the eccentric schedule his roommate maintained.

The lady behind the counter seemed to move in slow motion, and Gavin would know, scanning items slowly and droning on in a monotone voice that was not accustomed to taking the night shift. She looked like she was ready to fall on the floor in a dead faint any moment and Gavin wasn’t positive he wouldn’t bolt out the door if the opportunity arose. He never said he was a good person, even when his life was still on the rails. Now, his emotions were a jumble of numb pressures that barely registered.

By the time it was Gavin's turn to buy his items – ok, one item - he'd zoned out, staring at his shoes and wondering if it would be possible to jump out of a plane and survive by running down a mountain. He backpedaled quickly and thought _what the hell?_ He dimly wondered why he'd been brought to his senses. 

Then, the checkout lady said, "Next, please," in a way that sounded excessively pissed and lead Gavin to believe she'd had to repeat herself several times. That's what he got for wondering about skydiving onto mountains, he supposed. 

Gavin hefted the gallon of milk onto the counter and glanced at his phone. He saw a text from Ray and rolled his eyes. Not only was he the one responsible for Gavin's current situation, but now he was asking for a... bag of dorites? Gavin raised an eyebrow and quickly texted back, "Do you mean Doritos?" 

Ray sent back a stock photo of a kid with gelled hair and sunglasses making a peace sign to the camera. Gavin, far too used to his antics, assumed that was a yes and grabbed a small bag of Doritos near the register. He dug out some crumpled dollar bills and handed them to the lady behind the counter. 

"Will that be all?" the lady asked, already tearing the receipt and thrusting it toward Gavin. 

"Er... yeah," he said, taking the receipt and bag containing his purchases. He slowly trudged his way out of the Walmart and into the parking lot outside. That was when his night went from weird to bizarre. 

He felt the gust of wind behind him from the closing doors. His eyes had wandered down to the ground, blinking heavily. He slogged across the large parking lot, planning to walk back to his apartment. It wasn’t that far, but it was far enough, so he let his mind wander.

That was probably why, when he felt his body impact with something very big and _very_ solid, he did not immediately scream as loud as he could and fall flat on his ass in a Walmart parking lot at three in the morning. Instead, he blinked a few times in surprise and slowly looked up at who he'd run into. And up. And up. And _then_ he fell flat on his ass, screams catching in his throat. 

As it turned out what he'd run into was not a who but, rather, a what. It stood almost seven feet, but as Gavin wasn't the best with those sorts of things he honestly had no idea just how tall it was. All he knew was that it towered above him, even more so from his new vantage on the ground. It stood on two legs, snorting and scraping cloven hooves on the asphalt. It had a set of horns that were so white they glowed in the light from the streetlights interspersed around the parking lot and its wild eyes were trained directly on Gavin. 

There was absolutely no way Gavin could have _ever_ guessed that this was how his night would turn out and yet, somehow, he was not surprised. Terrified, yes, but surprised, no. A dark spark of emotion flared up and choked him, and he found he couldn’t move, only stare at the… monster in front of him.

It snorted loudly, backing up slowly, its hands almost touching the ground. It was a few spaces away from him, balanced between two streetlights that illuminated the crushingly empty parking lot. Where were those two other people who had also been in the store with him? Gone, apparently. Or dead. But Gavin didn’t want to think about that.

The monster snorted again, and with the sound it brought another spark of fear. It shook threateningly, lowering its head before charging. Gavin felt his stomach drop straight out of his body and his limbs tense up, unable to move as his mind refused to properly process what was happening. There was a small part of him, buried under the panicked screaming and frantic praying to every version of God he could think of, that was convinced this was a dream because, really, how could this be real? 

For a split second suspended in time he could see the hairs on the creature's bovine face, could smell the disgusting breath and feel his impending death. He found he wasn't nearly as disappointed as he should have been. He was going to die in a Walmart parking lot, alone, at an ungodly hour when he should really have been back in his apartment, sleeping soundly and not about to get impaled. Well, if nothing else, at least he didn’t have to worry about taxes or where his next job was going to be, or if the next day was the day he finally snapped, because it seemed today was that day. Or, and he didn’t want to dwell on this possibility, this was real, and he was really going to die. 

Then the moment was over when a loud, commanding shout rang across the empty night and something crackled and pushed and the beast was sent tumbling a few yards away. Gavin could only blink in surprise at the hand - the human hand - being offered to him. He took it hesitantly, not completely sure how to handle this situation. The man connected to the hand looked somewhere between annoyed and angry, with just enough determination to get rid of the incessant _I'm about to die I'm about to die_ that was playing in the back of Gavin's mind. 

However, the man also rendered him unable to speak, and Gavin wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe it was the spark in the stranger's eye, something old and powerful, or the way he held himself, completely confident in his abilities even as the monster was shaking itself off and trying to stand up. That loud, commanding voice barked something again and the strange man flung his hands out and Gavin could have sworn there was a ripple in the air around his skin. Suddenly, and Gavin had the feeling the stranger was responsible for this, black chains sprung out of the ground and wrapped around the large body of the monster, pinning it to the ground again. 

"U-Uh..." Gavin stuttered, suddenly acutely aware of the weak feeling in his legs and the strange energy that filled the air around them. "I-um... m-my milk..." he finished lamely, pointing to the growing puddle of white liquid on the ground. The strange man rolled his eyes and Gavin felt his face heat up. Well what was he _supposed_ to say!? Hey, thanks random stranger who may or may not have superpowers, that minotaur thing would have totally and utterly mutilated my body and possibly eaten it if you hadn’t shown up! Yep, that would have been a _much_ better option.

Honestly, there was no winning for Gavin tonight. Not on the giant monster encounter front or even the social interaction front. Figures.  

"What the hell are you doing here?" the man asked, and Gavin wasn't sure he liked how he said it. It was like this happened every day, that Gavin should have known about the giant fucking bull and planned to avoid it. It was patronizing and Gavin didn't like it. 

He puffed up his cheeks and tried to look tougher than a man who fell on his ass a minute ago. "I was running errands." Well, one errand. One stupid errand that Ray only got him to do by promising to get a particularly difficult achievement on some game that didn’t matter that much anymore for him. Not after his recent near death experience. "What are _you_ doing here?" And Gavin tried to replicate the patronizing tone, but got the feeling he had fallen a little short.

The man inclined his head to the minotaur struggling under the thick chains. 

"O-oh, right." Gavin felt himself flush a deep crimson color. Quick, think of something else to say to distract from how much of a dumb stupid idiot you are! "I'm Gavin." Good one. 

The man let out a noise of annoyance but, for the sake of being polite, offered his name in return. "I'm Michael. And you," he said, putting a hand on Gavin's chest and pushing, "Need to get out of here."

"B-but-" 

Whatever Gavin was going to say was drowned out by the sudden sound of metal breaking. It was more of a shattering sound, if Gavin was being honest, but metal didn't shatter and chains weren't typically made of anything other than metal. 

...right?

Gavin didn't get to ponder the composition of chains much longer because the hand that had been resting on his chest suddenly pushed with a force that was certain to leave a mark. Gavin felt himself get flung backwards and he tumbled gracelessly over the asphalt. He looked up, slightly dazed and extremely winded, and felt his heart skip a beat. 

Michael was, to put it in plain terms, grappling the minotaur. To be more specific, it looked like something bright and heavy and red was encasing Michael's hands, and it was those red things that in turn looked like a larger, semi-transparent version of his hands that was grappling with the minotaur. The streetlights reflected on them like something glass. Gavin wasn't sure how much more he could take.

For whatever reason it didn't occur to Gavin to leave, disregarding the fact that he probably couldn’t, his lungs still mostly empty and struggling for air, so he sat sprawled on the ground for the rest of the fight, his disbelief put on standby for the night. Probably for the best. 

Michael ended up winning the grapple, sending the minotaur tumbling once again, but unlike last time it recovered quickly and charged. The strange red hands disappeared and suddenly the parking lot was bathed in fire as Michael took a deep breath and ignited his hands. The fire didn’t seem to hurt him, and he consolidated the fire to launch fireball after fireball at the beast. Gavin, in a strange moment of hysteria, thought that it looked a bit like Mario. 

The beast didn't seem to care that its coat was now smoldering and made it to Michael, its horns aimed straight at the man's stomach and a fair amount of his vital organs. Gavin wanted to shout, found he couldn’t, and instead braced himself for the sight of blood and guts, gagging only slightly at the thought. However, Michael was apparently still full of surprises because he seemed to summon something that resembled dinner plates in size and form to push off of the tips of the horns, keeping his hands – and the rest of him – from becoming bloody. He landed neatly a fair distance from the minotaur.

What commenced was like watching a strange dance, Michael dodging and enraging the minotaur. He jumped and blocked and countered, sending the monster plowing into the ground, tearing up the asphalt. A few streetlamps flickered off from the impact of twin horns getting stuck in the metal.

Eventually, Michael seemed to have had enough and danced a fair distance from the monster, drawing himself up and taking another deep breath. 

His right hand touched the ground and a complicated symbol made primarily of a five pointed star appeared on the ground. As Michael pulled his arm back his fingers curled around the hilt of what was presumably a sword. When the star disappeared all Gavin could think was that he wasn't wrong, he just didn't guess that it would be a giant buster sword nearly the same height and weight as Michael. Gavin couldn't find it in himself to be surprised, so he just settled on muttering, "Of course."

Michael swung the sword with ease, a huge manic grin growing on his face. He charged the Minotaur, and with a single swing, cleaved it in two. It froze, suddenly a statue of flesh and fur, before draining of color and disintegrating. It was, in Gavin's opinion, a bit anticlimactic, but what did he know? He was probably in shock or something.

The sword disappeared and Michael dusted his hands off. He seemed awfully pleased with himself. Gavin took a deep breath, calming his nerves and then shouted, as loud as he could, "WHAT. IN. THE. _HELL._ WAS. THAT?" Unfortunately, his loudest was barely below speaking voice and shaking terribly, the several near death experiences finally catching up to him. 

"That," Michael said, after giving Gavin a look that he took to mean he'd forgotten he was there. "That was a minotaur."

Gavin couldn't help but be indignant. "Well I bloody know that don't I!" Michael seemed somewhere between surprised and amused. Gavin found it only made his face red. "I mean what's it doing here? And how is it here? Last I checked, they didn't _exist_!"

Michael actually did laugh at that, and Gavin wanted to be angry. But he was tired and the adrenalin was fading away and the laugh was actually kind of cute, so he waited for an answer. "Well, that means I'm doing my job, doesn't it?"

And _that_ was not the answer he was expecting. He floundered for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. "And just what is your job?" Gavin asked hotly, not expecting the reaction he got, but what the hell did he know about this strange… stranger? Good one, Free, nice one. Get some more sleep, please. 

Michael suddenly lost his bravado, and if Gavin had a better grip on his vocabulary at the moment he would have said he deflated. "I- well, I mean, I... I mean I don't... have one..." Then he mumbled something that Gavin didn't catch. 

"What was that?" he asked, just a little bit smug. 

"Anymore," Michael ground out, a little louder. 

"And what did you use to be? Some kind of..." Gavin searched for the words, grasping at straws before he finally settled on, "Monster... hunter?" 

"Well, kinda," was all Michael had to say on the matter. There was a short moment where he looked small and young and Gavin realized he couldn’t be much older than he himself was. But then the moment was gone and suddenly he snapped back to the Michael that fought the minotaur and wielded a giant sword like it was nothing and said, with as much authority as he could muster, "Don't you think you should be getting home?"

And the next thing Gavin knew he was shutting the door to his apartment and kicking off his shoes. 

Ray poked his head around the corner - why was he still awake? - and said, "Yo, Vav." He looked his roommate over and furrowed his eyebrows. "Dude, where's the shit?"

Gavin blinked and realized he didn't have the milk. Figures.

He sighed. "I'll get it tomorrow."

-.-

The next day, he went back to the same Walmart, bought another gallon of milk, and found the parking lot pristine and lacking giant scars caused by a giant bull creature plowing into the asphalt. The only thing that made him doubt that it was all a dream was the hand shaped bruise imprinted on his chest. 


	2. Running Around Headless

The second time he met Michael Jones he had just finished shooting a scene for some commercial he didn't care that much about.

He was packing his camera and slinging the bag over his back, everyone else trickling out to finish their work or get on with their lives. He was about to follow them, probably get something to eat from one of the twenty-four hour stores Americans seemed so fond of. Or maybe he wouldn’t, considering what had happened last time he’d went shopping late at night. Gavin unconsciously brushed his hand over the bruise that was rapidly fading on his chest.

It had been a while, and still he found his mind wandering to that night. Maybe it was a bad thing, being so obsessed with Michael, but then again, it wasn’t as if he consumed every waking moment of his life.

…ok, so maybe he’d asked around a few times to see if anyone else had met the strange man. But it wasn’t like anyone knew what he was talking about. Well… a few obviously did, they just didn’t want to talk about it. Gavin had gotten the impression they had thought it was a dream and weren’t willing to admit that it was anything but. Gavin, for whatever reason, wanted it to have been real.

He had no idea why, but he felt like it would make something of his life.

_Or end it,_ he thought with a jump, as the sudden sound of something falling down with a dull thud reached his ears. Gavin felt himself freeze, his hand again brushing over the fading hand shaped bruise on his chest. The only thing making him doubt that Michael was just a dream, and, at the same time, making him incredibly jumpy. If that giant minotaur thing was real, who knew what else was real.

Something that sounded too much like claws scraping on the wall to be anything less than terrifying made Gavin whip around, only to find nothing but darkness. The office building was large and empty, with plenty of cubicles and hallways to hide in. Which basically meant it would be as perfect for a horror film as it was for a commercial about insurance. Great.

"H-hello?" Gavin asked, wincing at how much his voice shook. It was nothing. Probably just some asshole dragging some heavy recording equipment. Totally not another monster, because what was the chance of that?

Then he heard the growl, and his insides turned to ice.

And he said, because he apparently had no sense of self preservation, "Who's there? T-this is a closed set. You're not supposed to be here."

Gavin edged forward, the lack of response spurring him forward. And, hey, if it was a terrible monster at least he wouldn't have to edit his footage tonight. He reached a corner and hesitated, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He found himself frozen and almost didn't move, wondering, realistically, what would happen if he died right then and there.

Well… not many people would miss him, if he was being honest. Maybe his family and Dan back in England, but other than that… well, maybe Ray. But from the few months of living with the guy he got the impression that he wasn’t too fond of showing excessive emotion. It was something like embarrassment that flashed across his roommate’s face whenever he did something overly emotional. He’d only seen Ray cry once, and afterwards he’d avoided Gavin for a week, but that was a story for another day.

The sound of something thumping against the other side of the wall a few feet away made Gavin jump, and he shook his head to clear it of the completely unrelated tangent he’d suddenly embarked on. He glanced around covertly, wondering if anyone had seen him almost piss his pants. No one was there. Great.

He took a deep breath and rounded the corner, coming face to face with someone he hadn't seen in what felt like a year.

He wanted to grab his stupid face, shake him and demand answers. He wanted to know who he was as a person and how he ended up chopping giant monsters in half and why he was now covered in cuts and bruises. He wanted to know why he looked so world weary when he was about Gavin's age. He wanted to know why there was no record of him in the city, why anyone who probably knew who Gavin was talking about had only shifted and acted as if they had no idea what he was talking about. He also wanted to slap him in his stupid mug, but he got the feeling he’d been through enough physical trauma for one day.

"I- you're not supposed to be here," was all Gavin managed to say.

Michael rolled his eyes and put on a pissy face that looked too much like a wince to be convincing.

Gavin hesitated. "A-are you ok?"

"Peachy," replied Michael, pushing himself off the wall and just barely catching himself. Gavin was glad, mainly because he was fairly certain that if he'd tried to catch him he'd end up in two pieces.

"Alright then," Gavin said, finally running out of restraint, "Maybe then you could explain what you're doing here."

"What are you doing here?" echoed Michael, and his voice was a mixture of emotions, most of them dull and unused. It took Gavin a second to realize he wasn't, in fact, mocking his accent, but returning the question.

Gavin felt indignant and said, with as much vitriol as he could, "I'm doing my _job_."

Michael winced, and Gavin was somehow positive it wasn't all from the pain of his injuries. Speaking of, he looked beaten to all hell. His face was a mess of bruises and his nose was probably broken. Gavin didn't doubt that there were numerous other bruises under his clothes. The only thing that kept him from completely freaking out was the lack of any heavily bleeding cuts, though there were plenty smaller ones, shallow enough to not be bleeding too much.

"And just what is your job," brought him back to reality. Or as close to reality as it got with Michael.

"I'm a... I, uh, record things for... things."

Michael looked at him flatly, and the pain was forgotten in favor of sarcasm. "Thanks, that's very specific.”

"S-shut up," Gavin said with as much venom as he could muster, which turned out to not be a lot. "It's better than what you said. Oh, wait, you didn't say anything because you're so mysterious and I'm not allowed to know anything about you!"

For some reason that seemed to strike a chord in Michael and he stood up straighter and stuck his hand out. "Michael Jones. Former member of the Hunter's Guild."

Gavin took the proffered hand hesitantly, not sure how to take this abrupt shift in demeanor. "Former?"

There was a crash and suddenly Gavin was on the ground, paint chips and plaster covering him liberally. He blinked a few times, shocked to say the least. He struggled under the sudden weight, his eyes locking onto shiny black beads that might have been eyes stuck in... a head.

A bodiless head.

Gavin's breath caught in his throat, warring between a shriek and a gag. A tall, spindly body was standing above him, holding the head in bony hands. It was bending down and twisting in a way that would have looked like it was tilting its head, if it had one on its shoulders. The stump of its neck ended raggedly and looked inflamed. Gavin really didn't want a better look at it, but found he couldn't look away. It almost looked like a special effect, the air shimmering slightly near the stump of a neck. The white and red that shifted slightly made it look like it was breathing, and that was when Gavin actually did gag.

The head - and Gavin realized with a sick feeling in his stomach that it was smiling widely and with rotting teeth - opened its mouth, wider and wider and... ok, now Gavin was ready to straight up vomit, both at the horrible sight and the terrible smell. He managed, through gasps and gags, to say something that might have been, "G-get this- this tosser off me."

Mercifully, someone must have heard, because something suddenly came spinning through the air, looking vaguely like a bowling ball made of fire, punching the... thing in the side and sending it flying through plaster again. Michael soon appeared in his line of vision and smirked at Gavin. "Need any help?"

Gavin gagged one more time before spitting out, "Not from you, you absolute maniac!"

Michael seemed hurt at the words and Gavin absolutely couldn't imagine why. Every time he showed up he brought something weird and impossible and dangerous with him, something that could snap Gavin in half like a twig and that would be the end of it. And he didn't offer an explanation, he didn't bother apologizing, no, he bloody just sent Gavin on his way with a word and didn't seem to care. Didn't see Gavin as enough of a... a threat to make sure he wouldn't go looking for him, even if it didn't seem to do much good.

"I- sorry, I'll get out of here," Michael muttered, suddenly looking cowed. He was about to turn and start walking away, but Gavin was up and caught his arm.

"Oh no you bloody well don't!" he all but shouted, his grip tightening on the other man's forearm. "You are going to sit down and explain some things to me."

"Uh..." Michael said, clearly not used to this kind of situation. Well, too bad. "Like what?"

"Like-" he was cut off by the headless thing coming back, launching itself at Michael with an otherworldly shriek that sucked the air out of the room and left Gavin’s insides cold.

Gavin let out his own shriek, diving out of the way as Michael gripped the creature's two arms and sent it spinning into a group of cubicles a few feet away. He pulled out something with a long, shimmering blade out of thin air and flash stepped to the monster, who was slowly picking itself up off the ground. He swiped at the… thing, and its arms crossed in front of its face, the blade bouncing off of it with a jarring clang, and Gavin only just noticed the black gauntlets strapped firmly to its forearms.

It struck back quickly, hands more like claws trying to tear Michael apart. Gavin was about to yell, move, do something, but found he couldn’t. He was frozen and this time it wasn’t totally fear.

Something flickered between Michael and the monster, something that looked like a wall but, like most of the things he seemed to summon, reflected light like something glass. However, it seemed to do that job, as it stopped the monster’s claws and simultaneously trapped it in the glass like it was molasses.

Michael, in a move that seemed to take no time or effort, sliced the arms off its body, cutting above any and all armor the monster was wearing. He pulled the blade back and in one more swift motion skewered the head that had rolled away from the monster. The headless and now armless body convulsed and faded, before crumpling away without another sound.

Gavin couldn't take this anymore.

He found that with the monster dead he could move once again and used his newfound mobility to march up to Michael, face hot and heart beating loudly. He put a finger firmly on Michael's chest and said, like the last words the man had said to him on their last meeting, "Michael Jones, you have some explaining to do."

"Uh..." He looked around, maybe for a miraculous way to disappear, before saying nervously, "It's called a dullahan."

Gavin blinked. "What is?" Michael gestured to the pile of ashes on the ground, coating his feet. "Oh."

"It, uh, I killed its horse first, because that's what they say you should do, but not before it, uh, got me pretty good." If Gavin didn't know any better he'd say Michael's tone was self-conscious. But a man who could dismember some kind of freaky monster didn't do self-conscious, so he must just be projecting. "But, well, hey, I got it back." Michael gave a strained laugh that sounded like it didn't get used very often.

Gavin blinked, honestly not expecting to get any sort of answer. Well, better not waste this opportunity, even if the environment was less than ideal. "Who's they?"

"The, uh..." He seemed to pale and the words got stuck. "I-I can't... tell you."

Gavin crossed his arms. "Yeah? Well then, tell me why."

"They, uh, make it very clear not to ever tell civilians about the... organization."

"Civilians?" Gavin forced out a hard laugh, even if it wasn't that funny. "You make it sound like it’s some kind of military program or something."

"I-" Michael somehow seemed even more uncomfortable.

"Oh, my god," Gavin said, disbelief coloring his tone. "There's a military program for monsters? I bet not even the conspiracy theorists thought of that one."

"It- it's not... really like that," Michael muttered.

Suddenly, an earlier piece of conversation floated to the forefront of Gavin's mind. "You called them the Hunter's Guild."

"Ah... I don't... think that's what I said..." The lie was so transparent Gavin almost felt bad for him. Almost being the key word. There was only so much pity he could feel for someone who could fight like he did.

"Uh-huh, alright. What are you doing here?"

"Fighting a dullahan?" Michael tried, and Gavin glared at him, conveying that he meant the city, not the building. "Ah, I'm... looking for someone. There just happens to be a lot monsters in the city lately."

Gavin tilted his head. "You're looking for someone? Who?"

And then Michael shut down, and the look of complete bewilderment and... _loss_ was enough to scream, "I don't know," without him having to move his mouth at all. If he hadn't been stuttering and floundering for the last few minutes Gavin would have flinched at how suddenly _empty_ he looked, but as it was he only winced, having seen a flash of this when asking about the Guild.

He knew, with a strange clarity, that something had happened to Michael Jones that had shattered him, and he was trying desperately to pick up the pieces.

A beam of light cut through the dim light filtering through shattered windows - wait, no, they were whole. Hadn't they been holes earlier? And hadn't that wall been smashed down? And hadn't Michael been standing there a second ago? Gavin almost swore.

"Who's there?" asked a gruff voice, and Gavin realized he'd probably stayed too late and this was a security guard thinking he was some kind of robber. Gavin wasn't sure what kind of person would rob an office building, but still.

"Ah- sorry! I was here for the, uh, commercial shoot earlier," Gavin said, and put on his most personable smile. "I must have stayed a bit late."

Gavin was then escorted out of the building by a tired yet friendly security guard, his mind miles away, trying to puzzle together the mystery that was Michael Jones, former member of the Hunter's Guild, looking for someone but without any idea who that was.

Gavin was sure of one thing, as he rode the midnight bus back to his apartment. He was going to find Michael Jones, and he was, as much as he was able, going to figure him out.


	3. In Too Deep

The third time was the last time before it became a regular occurrence.

It was also the first time they'd met that didn't involve some kind of terrifying beast, at least not directly. This time they met purely on accident and Gavin wasn't about to let him get away again so easily.

"Hello," Gavin said with a smile.

"Hi," Michael said stiffly, and he wouldn't dare pull one of his disappearing acts with so many people around. At least Gavin hoped he wouldn’t. It would be kind of hard for him to explain why he was yelling at thin air.

The thin crowd - but a crowd nonetheless - trickled around them, ducking into shops or out onto the sidewalk. There were people crossing the streets and mothers with strollers and tourists taking pictures. And none of them knew that on a whim a monster could choose any one of them as its next victim. Well, he supposed it wasn’t that different from a mugger or something. Just scarier.

Gavin glanced around, trying to find the terrible killer monster that probably had its sights set on him, that would leave him sore for a week. He assumed Michael had it worse, since he actually had to fight the things, but he was probably used to it. Or as used to fighting giant monsters as one could be.

There was, thankfully, no monster, at least that Gavin saw. He wouldn’t be surprised if Michael was fighting an invisible monster in broad daylight or something like that. Regardless, all Gavin saw were the small, locally owned shops that were common around this part of the city, with the occasional chain restaurant or cafe on the corner. No one passing them seemed like they'd be the kind of person to summon a demon or steal some magical, cursed relic, so, in all honesty, it was a mystery to Gavin was Michael was doing on this innocuous street in the middle of the day. He asked him as much.

"Why do you care?" Michael asked, the spikes evident in his voice. He seemed on edge and completely averse to talking, but Gavin had been in this situation before, in places that were infinitely worse than a street in the middle of Texas.

"Just curious I suppose," Gavin replied. He shrugged casually and, when Michael tried to brush past him and continue on his way, Gavin stubbornly followed. He was _not_ getting away that easily. "You know, it's really not nice to just leave someone in the middle of a conversation."

"You know, I really don't care," Michael said back, in as bright a voice as possible. Gavin almost laughed, but caught himself. He wasn't letting Michael off the hook that easily. If he could help it he’d make sure Michael had a hard time doing anything Gavin didn’t want while he was around him from now on.

"You still didn't answer my question." Gavin almost tripped over the edge of the sidewalk as they crossed the street, and Michael snorted loudly at him. He felt his face get red and tried to regain his dignity. It didn’t work as well as he’d hoped.

"Oh yeah? What question?" Michael asked in a way that implied he knew damn well what question that was.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm, um, doing my job," said Michael, ducking his head away from Gavin, as if his face would give away his unwillingness to answer the question. Yeah, no, Gavin could tell perfectly well that he didn't want to talk. Good thing he'd always been good at getting people to do what they didn't want to do.

"Riiiight, your job." They continued on, winding through crowds and past shops. Michael didn't go into any of them, even when they passed the same one twice. Gavin had to hand it to Michael, he was pretty good at walking like he knew where he was going. "The job that involves battling murderous creatures in the dead of night."

"Yes," Michael said, and his tone was somewhere between proud and patronizing. "That job."

"Hmmm," Gavin hummed. Then, "You're lost, aren't you?"

Michael turned beet red and said, "No!" so quickly it couldn't be anything but a blatant, embarrassed lie.

“That sounds like something someone who’s lost would say.” Gavin said casually, and Michael tried to sputter out a rebuttal, but Gavin just continued, "I mean, it's not like I've lived in this city for years and could probably point you in the right direction." Then, he added with a certain level of smugness, "That is, if you told me where you were going."

Michael glared at him and stubbornly remained silent. They walked a while longer, the silence deepening, but Gavin could tell Michael was getting impatient. It was only when Gavin tripped for the sixth time - um, no he wasn't counting... – that Michael finally snapped.

"Alright, fine! I'm looking for the..." The last part was mumbled, and Gavin could tell he was at least slightly embarrassed. Oh, man, he was going to have _fun_ today.

"Speak up, love, I couldn't hear you," Gavin teased with a grin. It was too much fun to rile Michael up. Honestly, annoying the powerful monster hunter was probably not the best use of his time, but whatever. If he died at least he died entertained.

"I'm looking for the... magic... shop..." Michael trailed off, still mumbling something incoherently.

Gavin, with as much self-control as you would expect from him, burst out laughing. He continued on until he ran out of breath in his lungs. He took in a deep breath for another bout of laughter but stopped abruptly when he noticed Michael was staring at him, glaring daggers. "Uh... you're not... joking, are you."

Michael kept glaring.

"Ok, but, like, that's a novelty shop! Tourists and kids go there. It's not... real."

"No," Michael said, and Gavin thought he was almost spitting. Man, he did not deal with embarrassment well. "But the people that run it are genuine."

"Oh," was all Gavin could say to that. "Well, uh, it's that way,” – here Gavin pointed the exact opposite direction to the way they were currently walking – “so follow me, I guess."

Gavin led the way through the slightly confusing streets of an old city that was built before city planning was a thing. The entire way Gavin kept glancing back at Michael, and almost every time the man was looking anywhere but at Gavin, which led him to believe he was being stared at. Weirdo. He should just talk. Or, better yet, Gavin could take the initiative in this situation.

"So... you're going to see a bunch of joke shop proprietors for... what reason?"

"It's honestly not your business in the slightest," Michael ground out at him, and Gavin got the distinct impression he'd be walking alone if Michael knew where he was going. Thank God for confusing city layouts.

"Yeah, maybe not," Gavin conceded. "But we keep meeting when there's really no reason for us to keep meeting, so I figure there probably is a reason." Well. Gavin hadn't thought of it that way until the words came out of his mouth, but he supposed they were true, albeit a bit jumbled, but still.

"That's some fucking circular logic right there. Maybe it is just a dumbass coincidence that I keep running into your stupid mug." A thought seemed to occur to Michael then, because he stopped and looked strangely at Gavin. "You haven't been... looking for me, have you?"

Now it was Gavin's turn to be embarrassed. "U-uh, no, why would you think that?" Gavin asked, and his voice totally didn't squeak. Damn it, he thought he had left puberty in the dust! Apparently not. That, or his body just hated him. It was honestly probably the latter.

"Oh, my God, you have," he said, maybe louder than necessary. Something was flickering in his eyes, and Gavin didn't know what to call it. It was almost like Michael wasn't used to being... important. No, maybe that wasn't the right word. More like cared about. Gavin wouldn’t call what he’d been doing _caring_ about the other man, but to each their own he supposed.

"Shut it," Gavin snapped, albeit weakly. He couldn't bring himself to be truly angry, not with that look in Michael's eyes. "You're some weird dude who's killed two monsters in front of me, directly saving my life multiple times in both those encounters. Of course I went looking for you."

A beat of silence. "So... how'd that work out?"

"No one bloody knew what I was talking about. Well," Gavin amended, "Maybe a few of them did. But I think they were convinced they imagined the whole thing and... didn't want to consider what it meant if you were real." He shrugged. "Either way they were no help. Good thing you keep turning up anyways."

"Yeah..." Michael muttered, his shoulders suddenly heavy, and Gavin wasn't sure what to think about that other than that he should really change the subject right about now.

"So... why are we going to see these people again?"

Michael sighed and for a split second Gavin was convinced that he was about to tell him, as clearly as possible, to fuck right off. Instead, he said, "They might be able to help me find who I'm looking for."

"You mean the person you don't know? That person you're looking for?"

Michael opened and closed his mouth a few times, obviously not having expected that Gavin would remember that conversation. Tough luck, he was categorizing and labeling and color coding everything having to do with Michael Jones for future reference. He had a feeling he would need it if he was ever going to puzzle him out. Finally, Michael said, "Yes. That person. And... one other thing."

"Yeah?" Gavin asked over his shoulder, hoping not to seem desperate for more detail. It probably didn’t work, and Gavin cringed at how curious he sounded. Damn, he was trying to be aloof! Shows how good his acting chops were.

"There's been... a lot more monsters around this area lately. I have to figure out why that is and neutralize the threat." He continued on, as if he'd forgotten he was talking to someone. "Because when there's an influx of monster activity usually that means something powerful is active in a way it wasn't before, and that usually means bad things. So it's my job to take care of it. Even if that means putting off looking for... yeah."

They walked a bit longer, a solemn mood weighing down on them both. Gavin worked his jaw, trying to gather the courage to ask. He got the feeling it was a sore subject, and for all Michael's brashness it was painfully obvious he was absolute garbage with his emotions. He didn't want to deal with a sobbing Hunter if it was that bad. But still, he wanted to know, so he asked, "Why are you looking for someone you don't know?"

Michael was quiet, and when Gavin glanced back he was looking down, fiddling with something around his neck. He was almost convinced the Hunter wouldn't answer, but then he said, in the smallest voice he'd ever heard from Michael, "I never said I didn't know him. I just... don't remember him."

"You... what?" Gavin asked, too stunned to properly manage his filter, which was usually bad news for every party involved. "You just... don't remember them? How?"  Michael stared at him, eyes veiled, and Gavin held up his hands. "Alright, I get it. I don't have enough friendship points to unlock your tragic backstory yet. All in good time, I guess."

Abruptly, Michael's eyes turned from guarded to painfully raw. "You... think we're friends?" There was something strange in the way Michael said that, as if it was a foreign word on his tongue. As if he was scared of all that the word entailed, as if he was scared that he would shatter something utterly just by considering it.

Gavin swallowed dryly, stopping and turning to face Michael properly. "I mean... sure. Why not? You've saved my life at least twice now. And you don't seem like too bad of a bloke. That's a good basis for a friendship, right?"

Michael looked down. "I wouldn't know."

"O-k, we are not going to do that," Gavin said, unable to stand the aura of despair Michael was putting out.

"I- what?"

"Look, since we've established that we're apparently friends now, we're going to be honest with each other - within reason - and we are not going to let each other be depressed - as much as we're able." Gavin gathered enough courage to put a hand on Michael's shoulder. He got the feeling he would have flinched, if not for that Hunter training... whatever that meant. "So, Michael Jones, you can either tell me what's wrong, and I can help as much as I can, or you can suck it up and we can be productive in tackling this problem I don't fully understand."

Michael forced a smile, and it seemed to help marginally. He knew immediately after he saw it what the answer would be. "Alright, Gavin-" and it was the first time he'd said his name out loud - "Let's go be productive."

Gavin was fairly sure he was able to hide his disappointment as he nodded and started walking the last few blocks to the novelty shop. He had honestly hoped that Michael would tell him what made him look so... _sad,_ but he supposed you couldn't rush these kinds of things. Maybe, in time, Michael would tell him. But not now. Maybe when it wasn’t so obviously a raw wound, when he’d finally found who he was looking for. Maybe Gavin would even get to meet them.

"Alright," said Gavin, breaking the silence that had fallen heavily on the two kind-of friends, "We're here."

The store was nestled in between two other stores advertising colorful paraphernalia and souvenirs. This section of the town was usually full of tourists and kids, and Gavin felt awkward being here. But, hey, whatever. This was part of the Michael Jones puzzle solving experience and he'd already resigned himself to whatever weird shit was bound to happen. And weird shit always seemed to happen and Gavin was just barely keeping his sanity. It was a miracle how Michael did it.

Above the wood door - totally wood, no window or anything - was a sign hanging down, that said "Ye Olde Majick Shoppe" and from what Gavin could gather, that was what the store was called before the current owners had set up shop. He didn't know what it was called now, everyone just called it the magic shop and assumed you knew what they were talking about. He also didn’t know why they hadn’t bought a new sign. Maybe they just liked the old one. Honestly who knew.

Michael looked at Gavin seriously. "You can leave if you want. I don't... you don't have to be here." Well, it was better than being yelled at.

"Hey, what are friends for?" Gavin asked rhetorically, shrugging. Michael smiled, a tiny, weak smile, but genuine. He nodded and pushed into the store, Gavin trailing behind.

The shop was as small as you'd expect a shop like that to be, and yet it felt infinitely spacious. There were shelves of polished wood holding plastic knickknacks that almost looked real. There were eyes in bottles and plants with leaves that didn't reflect the light right to be real, but otherwise looked genuine. There were things hanging from the walls and ceilings, stuffed bats and broomsticks and wands made from polished wood that were probably for the kids who were way into Harry Potter. There were stones, small and smooth, and chunks of crystal that made strange shapes. There were shadows in corners and whispers from jars, but Gavin ignored those.

Michael seemed to know where to go, walking purposefully to the back, where someone was sitting, looking bored. His hair was close cropped and his face looked young. Even sitting down Gavin could tell he was shorter than average. His eyes caught Michael's, and he straightened up. "Ah, Hunter," and he said it in a way that made Gavin's skin crawl it was so full of contempt.

"Former," Michael said, and the man seemed to relax marginally, but his hands still twitched. Gavin wondered if he could pull swords out of thin air like Michael could. "Michael Jones, I need some help with a seeker and tracker spell."

The man behind the counter nodded and pointed. "Head to the back, ask for Kdin. He might be a bit... prickly, but he'll help you if you pay him right." The man behind the counter glanced at Gavin. "Is he... coming with you?"

Gavin got the feeling this was something Michael had to and wanted to do alone, so he said, "Nah, I'm waiting out here." Michael shot him a look that might have been interpreted as relief but was probably supposed to be a silent thank you, and headed into the back of the store.

A thick silence descended, and Gavin contented himself with looking at the various wares they sold on the shelves. He entertained himself by thinking up stupid names for already ridiculously named items, but soon found that he was bored. Thankfully, it seemed that the only person on staff wanted to have a conversation.

"When'd you meet him?" a voice asked, and Gavin jumped. The man from behind the counter laughed, and said, "Sorry, sorry. I'm Jeremy, by the way."

"U-uh, I'm Gavin," he returned uncertainly. "So you're like, a wizard or something?"

"Alchemist, actually, but sure. So," he leaned forward over the counter, looking Gavin dead in the eye. "When'd you meet him?"

"A- a few weeks ago. Maybe a month? I don't know. He, uh, saved my life." Gavin felt like he had to add that on the end. He didn't know why he felt like he was defending himself and Michael. "He's not that bad, really."

"Well, I guess he'd have to be, to have gotten out of the Hunter's Guild."

Gavin stiffened. "You know about the Guild?"

"Well, yeah, everyone does. Or, at least anyone who's figured out how to use their magic." He rolled his eyes. "Those creeps make it their job to monitor everyone with even the slightest amount of unlocked magic. They're a little annoying, if you ask me."

"What do they, uh, do?" Gavin asked hesitantly, glad to finally be getting some answers, but unsure how to feel about it. It was almost like he was betraying Michael, finding all this out without him, but hey, it wasn't like he was ever going to tell Gavin. Not for a long time yet.

"Well, I thought that was obvious. They hunt monster, therefore the name." Jeremy glanced around, and Gavin got the distinct impression that this was gossip to the alchemist. "But lately they've been sticking their noses in other magician's businesses. Not that there’s any other guild that’s that old or well put together... relatively speaking. I mean, have you heard what they do to their recruits there? For... initiation, I guess? It's crazy."

"Why? What do they do?"

"Well, see, they get them really young, because then your magic is malleable enough to become almost exclusively weaponized, and if that's not bad enough, after the kids finish their initial tests, they have this whole big ceremony where-"

"Thanks again," Michael's voice drifted in and cut off their conversation. Gavin wanted to pull his hair out. He swore Michael did that on purpose. What could possibly be so bad that someone would go to such lengths to keep him from finding out about it? The Hunter walked out into the main store again, holding something in a paper bag, and smiled at Gavin. "Hey, Gav, ready to go?"

No, he wanted to say. "Yeah, I guess. Get what you needed?"

"Yep," Michael said, and it was the happiest Gavin had ever seen him. It was a little weird, if he was being honest.

They walked out on the street together, and the sun was already dipping below the skyline, casting shadows over everything. Gavin could have sworn the sun was high in the sky when they walked in, but it wasn’t like he had anything planned for the day so he didn’t really care. Michael shifted and said, uncertainly, "So... I guess I'll see you again?"

Gavin thrust a piece of paper at Michael, and he took it uncertainly. "Um... what's-?"

"It's my phone number and address. I live with a roommate, though, so try not to scare him too bad whenever you drop by."

Michael seemed genuinely unsure of how to handle everything Gavin was implying. "I- thank you." And he sounded so sincere it hurt. "I guess... I guess I'll see you soon, then?"

"Yeah, just give me a call or drop by or... something."

Michael smiled again, fingering the piece of paper like it would disappear if he stopped looking at it. "Thanks. Goodnight, Gavin."

"Goodnight, Michael." And then he was gone, and Gavin walked home alone.

* * *

  
Kdin was cleaning up his seeking circle when he sensed more than heard Jeremy step into the room. He was silent as Kdin worked, but eventually he spoke.

"You know what this means, right?"

Kdin sighed. "Yes, I do."

"Think we should tell Lindsay?"

He shook his head. "No, not really. She'll figure it out on her own. Or she already knows. Besides, it's not about her. It's about you."

"Yeah, but you're not sure," Jeremy wheedled, as he'd had the tendency to do lately.

"No, but we've been over it many many times and... you fit the description." He stood up and looked at Jeremy. "And Michael fit the description, too. And then there was the other one."

"Gavin. He's... his name's Gavin." Jeremy looked nervous. "He... I don't know what's wrong with him, but..."

"But, he probably fits the legend like the other one, which means you were feeling his magic." Kdin inclined his head and amended, "Or, his lack thereof."

"But... you can't just... not have magic. That's not how it works! Sure, you can have it locked up and be unaware of it, but everyone has some. It's a basic human fact!"

"So maybe he's not human."

"But he felt human!"

"Did he?" Kdin asked, doubtful.

Jeremy hesitated. "I... I think so? It was weird... it was like... the energy around him wasn't... his."

"No," Kdin said, going back to work. "It wouldn't be."


	4. Young and Tragic

That morning Gavin didn't have anything important to do for the day, so he was sitting on his couch, eating sugary, colorful cereal because he was a well acclimated adult. He tried his best to ignore the usual sounds of their apartment complex, the shouts and bumps and that one guy who thought he could actually play the guitar. Instead, he focused on the noises of his own apartment, the TV turned on with the volume down low, Ray shuffling his way around with half closed eyes.

"Morning," Gavin said, and Ray suddenly stopped walking, blinking in confusion. Gavin snorted into his cereal. Ray was about as far from a morning person as you could get and one of the only people Gavin had ever met that could get up in the morning without properly waking up. Usually he wasn’t up this early but he had an early shift and therefore had to wake up before noon.

"Anything interesting happen lately, X-Ray?" he asked after Ray collected himself enough to hold a conversation. Gavin had already finished his cereal and was looking through his library of games for something to play.

Next to him, the couch sagged as Ray sat down in it, holding a bagel and some redbull. He was not the... healthiest person Gavin had ever met. "Nope, been pretty boring for me lately."

Somehow Gavin got the sense that wasn't exactly true, but who was he to judge? He hadn't told Ray about Michael. He didn't know why, he just felt like it wasn't the right time. Maybe eventually, but not today. Besides, how was he supposed to explain it? Hey, I almost died twice in the past month, only to be saved by some dude with a sword and possibly magic. That would go over fantastically. "Yeah, same. Have fun at work?"

He smiled crookedly and sighed. Gavin noticed the bags under his eyes. "Yeah, I'll try my best to have a fulfilling day while helping seven year olds buy Call of Duty."

Ray stood up and before he left Gavin asked, "Are you getting enough sleep, Ray?"

"What are you, my mom?" he asked, but he opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if he was considering saying something but thought better of it. It seemed Gavin wasn’t the only one keeping secrets. He ended up not saying whatever it was he was thinking of and got up, tossing the empty redbull can in the trash and heading out. "See you tonight, Vav."

"See ya, X-Ray."

It was a few hours of gaming after that, which, for Gavin, basically meant dying in the most mundane ways while a war zone was raging around his character. He played a variety of games – mostly shooters because he never learned – and failed miserably at all of them. After falling off the map for the third time in three minutes, Gavin shut off his Xbox with a huff, deciding maybe now was a good time to actually eat something healthy. Or at least some cup noodles, because Gavin really wasn't good at cooking.

He was rummaging around in his cupboards when there was a knocking on his door. Gavin paused, confused, before yelling, "Alright, alright, I'm coming! Chill your bean," when the knocking got louder.

He cracked the door open, the chain stubbornly keeping it closed, and peered out. "I assure you," said Michael, standing outside his apartment, "My bean is severely frigid."

"I- what are you doing here?" Gavin whisper-shouted, shutting the door quickly to undo the chain and pulling Michael inside, for some reason hoping no one had seen him knock on his door. "You didn't bring anything-" he made a motion with his hands "-weird, did you?"

"Do you count?" Michael asked, looking around appraisingly at Gavin's apartment. He had the distinct feeling he was being judged. He tried not to let his face get red as he scratched harder then was strictly necessary at his cheek.

"Oh, haha, very funny," Gavin said sarcastically, rolling his eyes for emphasis. "But seriously, why are you here?"

"I, uh, need somewhere to... stay, for a few hours. It won't be that long, I promise," he said hastily, as if he was afraid Gavin would kick him out. Well, now he was being put in a box. He couldn’t just tell Michael to leave, not after it was obvious he was asking for help, albeit in a roundabout and slightly manipulative manner.

He sighed. "When you say somewhere to stay," Gavin said slowly and measuredly, already knowing the answer, "Does that, perhaps, mean somewhere to hide?"

"N-no!" Michael said indignantly. Gavin's bullshit meter, which also doubled as his filthy liar detector, was making a very loud, very annoying beeping noise.

"Michael," he said patiently, making himself seem as calm as possible, even if inside he was slowly melting into a puddle of nerves and wondering how his life could have possibly gotten to this situation. "Did you kill someone."

"No!" This time he sounded genuine, and Gavin would have taken it, but, unfortunately, Michael didn’t know when was a good time to shut his trap. Sure, he kept it firmly closed when it was something Gavin wanted to hear about, but when it was something he could live without knowing, he said things like, "Well, no one human."

Gavin made a noise in the back of his throat and closed his eyes. "Will I have to deal with... monster police breaking down my door."

"No, just regular police."

Gavin wanted to yell and throw something. Maybe punch a hole in his wall for good measure. Instead, he rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye and prayed to anything listening that he would survive Michael Jones. It took him a good minute before he managed to compose himself enough to accept that this was his life now, and he might as well spend more time playing video games instead of worrying about it. Just like his normal life.

Gavin sighed one more time for effect and asked, "Can you cook?"

That seemed to floor Michael. Sure, he was just fine being asked if he’d killed someone, but anything domestic was unheard of. "I- I- what?"

"Can. You. Cook?" Gavin repeated, slower this time. "I'm hungry as hell and I can't cook worth a damn, so..."

"Uh- I mean, yeah I... I can cook," he said, almost like he was unsure and embarrassed all at once.

"Either you can or you can't."

"Uh... probably. I- it's been a while and I'm... not completely sure." Gavin leveled an exasperated look his way and he backpedaled. "I mean, yes, definitely."

"As long as you don't burn my apartment down, fine."

With that he wandered back into the small space that served as a living room, the faded wallpaper and dirty grey carpet that might not have always been grey a welcome sight after yet another unexpected encounter with Michael. Maybe he should just expect him to turn up at the worst times, that would probably save him a lot of trouble in the future. At least Ray wasn’t due back for a while.

Gavin turned on his Xbox again and ignored the sound of pots and pans banging in the kitchen. He ignored the smells and occasional swears filtering through the thin walls in favor of actually trying to win a co-op match on Halo. It was a few matches and a dismal kill count later that he heard Michael enter the living room and he closed out of the game in favor of facing his unexpected house guest.

If he was being honest with himself, he had expected Michael to just bring in ramen or something. What he had not expected, even with his new resolve to just take things in stride, was a plate of French toast. He hadn't even known he had... whatever you needed to make French toast in his apartment. Bread, for one.

"I- uh," Gavin sputtered, trying to think of something acceptable to say. Thank you would probably work, but the words stuck in his throat for some reason. Michael sat down next to him, placing the plate on the coffee table Gavin's feet had been resting on moments before.

"You're welcome," he said, and Gavin was glad at least one of them was familiar with acceptable social norms.

Gavin tentatively gripped the fork and took a bite. He was stunned that it actually tasted decent. More than decent, actually. He'd actually call it good and, ok, maybe he was being a little judgmental to immediately think he wouldn't be able to cook. Gavin found himself halfway through the first piece before Michael asked, "So, uh, what do you think?"

"It's- uh, really good?" Gavin said uncertainly yet with conviction. He wasn't sure how he managed that, much less with a mouth full of bread, but he did nevertheless.

"Really? Sweet." Michael said it like he hadn't known what the answer would be. Gavin desperately wanted to ask him something, but he swallowed the desire and another piece of French toast when Michael beat him to the question game. "Is, uh, is the Xbox yours?"

"Uh, no it's actually my roommate's. Mine's a first gen, and his is a One, so it was pretty obvious who's should get set up with our singular television."

Michael nodded and reached out for the discarded controller. He hesitated and glanced at Gavin. "Knock yourself out, dude," Gavin shrugged.

Michael shuffled through the vast library of games that both Gavin and Ray had compiled. He had honestly expected Michael to choose Halo or Call of Duty, but instead he seemed disappointed, muttering something along the lines of, "No Banjo? Shit," and eventually picking the last title he would have expected.

Michael loaded a new game in Stardew Valley, naming himself and his farm, before jumping right into the pixelated farming simulator.

He'd just planted his first set of summer crops, Gavin's food long finished, when Gavin finally managed to ask, "So, uh, where'd you learn to cook?"

Michael says, almost as if he didn't really process Gavin's question fully to understand that he shouldn't know the answer, "I used to cook all the time for my fam-" he abruptly cut himself off, realizing what he'd almost said. His hands started to shake.

Gavin looked at him, suddenly very concerned. Michael looked like he'd just touched a live wire and was unable to let go. The cheery music from the game filtered through the otherwise deathly silent room, his character moving slightly in an idle animation. Michael was frozen, his eyes wide and unfocused and his hands almost refused to let go of the controller. Gavin had no idea what to do. So, naturally, he did the worst possible thing.

"Your... family?" he gently prompted, and Michael physically flinched.

He dropped the controller, which landed with a clatter on the coffee table, and stood up abruptly and stiffly. "I should go," he said, in a tone that was so foreign to Gavin that it hurt. It sounded almost... military.

He was halfway to the door when Gavin had enough presence of mind to leap up and latch onto his arm with a hand. And suddenly it was a night a few weeks ago, in an empty office building lying in temporary ruin.

He said what he said then, an angry, "Oh no you bloody well don't!" More because he didn't like seeing Michael deal with this alone than wanting answers. Ok, maybe he did want answers, but still. Talking helped, right? That's what people said, at least. Smart people, with degrees in this kind of thing. Ok, so maybe not this exact thing, but still. "We are going to sit down and talk this out before you go waltzing away again."

Michael didn't turn, but his shoulders were impossibly stiff and his hands clenched. Something sparked in the air and suddenly Gavin felt like he was way out of his depth. "I- I can't," Michael choked out, and Gavin had to swallow, hard, because there was something so terribly raw and exposed in Michael's voice.

"What happened to them?" he asked, trying to get Michael to let it out. That was a good thing, right? He was having second thoughts about that. "Your family, I mean."

"I- they- I- I had to, you have to understand that. They were having trouble - money trouble - and it was hard enough with two kids already, another one on the way." Michael let out a strangled sob. "Oh- God, I have a brother I've never met. Fuck, I won't ever meet him. They don't need this; they don't need me to mess their lives up again. I shouldn't have come here- I'll just mess up your life. I- I shouldn't be looking for him, either. He doesn't need it but- fuck, I need him."

Michael swayed, and Gavin was afraid he would fall over, before taking a deep breath. He cleared his throat, but still didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry. I should go."

And Gavin barely had time to say, "Michael, wait-" before the door was slamming shut behind him.

Gavin rushed out, into the hallway, looking both ways desperately, trying to find any trace of Michael Jones. He couldn't let him disappear again, not after he had unwittingly opened up what was perhaps the biggest open wound for Michael.

He chose a direction - left, towards the stairwell - and ran, hoping to catch Michael, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to. Instead of finding the Hunter he almost plowed straight through Ray, who caught him by the arm. "Woah, woah, Vav, slow down, what's going on?”

"I-" Gavin started. He wanted to say I was chasing this dude - his name's Michael - he hunts monsters and had trouble with emotions, and I think he's my friend, and I just hurt him and I don't know if he'll come back. He wanted to tell Ray about all that had happened in the past few weeks. He wanted to talk to someone who knew more, who could help him, but he didn’t want to drag Ray into this. So, instead of sharing everything that was boiling in his chest, he said, "I was heading out."

Ray raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you have a social life? You get a date? Who's the lucky guy?"

Gavin couldn't help but smile. While his sexuality was still pretty up in the air - he hadn't had time lately to really look into it - Ray still liked to joke about it. It wasn't mean spirited, especially since Ray had told him about his own past relationships - a mixture of guys and girls. "Haha, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Ah, so he's imaginary. Got it," Ray gave him double pistol fingers and headed towards their apartment. "By the way," he threw over his shoulder, "You might want to get properly dressed before you head off into the night."

Gavin looked down and, with burning cheeks, realized he was still wearing his pajamas. And the sun was going down. He hadn't changed clothes all day. Whoops. Time sure flew when you were playing host to an emotionally unstable 20-year-old with a tragic past.

He quickly followed Ray back into their apartment, thinking over everywhere he could go looking for Michael. He could check back at the places they’d run into each other, or just wander around the city hoping for the best…

He felt himself bump into Ray, who was standing in the middle of the hallway, staring at nothing. “Uh… Ray?” Gavin asked tentatively. This wasn’t anything new, but that didn’t mean it was any less unsettling. His eyes were unfocused and his breathing shallow.

Ray shook himself and took a deep breath, swaying, before shooting his arm out to catch himself. It took him a second, but finally he said, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Gavin gave him an exasperated look. “Mate, _please_ get some sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s- that’s not a bad idea,” he admitted shakily, and he slowly made his way to his room.

Gavin followed him in, making sure he was actually sleeping and not playing his DS late into the night. He sighed when he saw Ray had just fallen face first into his bed. “ _Ray_ ,” he said sternly.

“What, _mom_?” his muffled voice came filtering through his sheets.

“You can’t fall asleep like that.”

“And why not? I’m a grown ass man I can do what I want.”

“Well, first you could probably suffocate or something,” Gavin said, hoping that would be enough to at least get him to take off his shoes.

“ _Good_ ,” was all Ray said, and continued to stubbornly lay face down like a petulant child. Gavin sighed and started tugging his shoes off, then his socks and hoodie. He figured if Ray was going to be difficult he could live with sleeping in jeans.

Gavin grabbed Ray’s arms and heaved, pulling him farther up his bed and flipping him over with great difficulty. He threw some blankets on top of him and huffed, crossing his arms, annoyed. “There, was that so hard?” Ray started lightly snoring in response. Gavin sighed. “Good night, X-Ray.”

With that he headed to his own room to change. Then, he thought with determination, he would go out and look for Michael Jones, and he would find him. Or, barring that, he would get some answers. And he had an idea where to start.


	5. Distress and Disarray

He'd been searching for what felt like hours but, when he checked the time on his phone, had only been thirty minutes. It didn't help that he’d been waylaid by public transportation, either. But, to be fair, it was getting late, so maybe he didn’t have a right to complain about the punctuality of the city’s busses. They weren’t that reliable to begin with. Either way it didn’t help his nerves. After all, he was looking for someone, and he was determined to find him.

He’d already dropped by the few places where he’d run into Michael before. He hadn't been at the office building, or the Walmart, or anywhere near Gavin's apartment. So, that left just one last place to look before he was out of ideas. Even if Michael wasn’t there Gavin figured he could at least get some answers.

The wood door waited in front of him, the sign hanging over it swinging back and forth slightly in the late evening breeze. There was no one else on the street and he shivered and rubbed his arms. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe they were closed or turned him away without a second thought. What if they weren’t as nice as Gavin had originally thought and had only stayed in line because Michael had been there. He shook his head and attempted to push those thoughts away. He had to at least check.

He took a deep breath but it was still a solid minute before finally steeling himself enough to step inside.

He didn't know why he was so nervous. Maybe it was because, this time, he was going there on his own, voluntarily, and without a proper excuse. Well, looking for Michael was maybe a proper excuse. The short one didn’t seem to partial to him at first. Speaking of the short one, Gavin hoped he was still there. He didn't know how he would handle it if there was someone else behind the counter and he somehow had to explain that he knew who... what they were. Or, what if the person behind the counter was just a normal employee? Was everyone in the shop some kind of wizard or was it just the one he'd seen and the one Michael went to see. Where they even open?

Ok, admittedly that last one was a stupid question, as the door had opened without a problem and he was standing between the tall, dark shelves and the lights were on. And he totally wasn't stalling, no, he was just very interested in the... stick he was picking up and examining.

"You might want to be a little bit more careful with that," a voice said, and Gavin jumped and whirled around, catching the eye of a girl with long red hair and dark, piercing eyes. She seemed remarkably serene. Like she already knew everything that was going to happen before Gavin even stepped outside of his apartment a half hour ago.

He felt his cheeks heat up when he realized he was staring and he hastily put the stick back where he'd found it. "S-sorry, uh, are you-?"

"Yes," she said before Gavin could finish his question, effectively cutting him off.

"I-oh..." Gavin muttered, and really he didn't know what to say after that. He wasn’t even sure he knew what he was going to ask in the first place. Probably if she worked there. He couldn’t help but flinch slightly as the woman kept staring at him. He’d ignored it before, but there was something distinctly unsettling about her. Her eyes almost seemed to look into his soul and find things even he didn't know were there. It was like she almost didn't like what she saw.

"Ah, you're that one," she said, and nodded, like that explained everything. Gavin bit his tongue. He probably shouldn’t say anything to upset her, because he got the feeling she could lay him out flat in two seconds if he tried anything. "You want to see Jeremy." It was not a question.

"U-uh," Gavin said, trying desperately to remember if the short one from a few days ago was indeed named Jeremy.

He decided it was probably his name right when Lindsay said, "Thought so. Come on," before leading him back behind the counter. Gavin wasn’t sure how to take this possible mindreading. Could people do that? Was that a real thing? Well, giant bull monsters were apparently real, so why not. He tried desperately to keep his thoughts clean.

Gavin suddenly stiffened as something ran across his feet as soon as he crossed the threshold between the main store and the back rooms. He didn't dare look down. Mainly because there were enough unsettling things lining the hallway without something small and black preoccupying his mind. Or maybe it was better, because it was just small and maybe rat shaped, whereas the walls seemed to bend and warp and whisper, and the mirrors reflected in greyscale, any living thing passing through it turning into black clouds vaguely shaped like people. The paintings and pictures shifted minutely, like someone trying desperately to make themselves look like statues. The eyes followed him as well, skirting up his spine.

It felt like he was walking on carpet, even if the sounds bouncing around gave the impression of wood flooring. He smelled something that might have been smoke but seemed to sweet. It made Gavin nauseous so he tried not to breathe too heavily. There were muffled voices and swearing filtering through the walls.

He finally took a deep breath when the woman lead him into something vaguely like an office, except that behind the desk was Jeremy, playing some game with a headset on, swearing up a storm. As soon as the woman pushed into the room, though, Jeremy straightened up, cleared his throat, and put away the controller and headphones. He coughed once, a blush crawling up his face, before saying, "Uh- Lindsay, hi."

It was the first time the woman showed anything other than unsettling understanding. She laughed, bright and loud, before pushing Gavin in front of her. "You have a visitor." She paused, glanced at Gavin, smirked, and said, “By the way, I can’t read minds, but that doesn’t mean someone else can’t.” Then she seemed to disappear, even if Gavin knew she had just walked out of the room. He got the impression she didn't necessarily have to obey the laws of the universe to the letter.

"Oh, hey," Jeremy said, leaning forward, and Gavin was eerily reminded of the first conversation they'd ever had, which also happened to be the only time they'd ever talked. "Gavin, right? The Hunter's friend?" Gavin must have still looked unsettled because Jeremy gave him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, you get used to it. Lindsay comes from a long line of seers. Or so she tells me.”

Gavin nodded, not sure what else to do. "Ah, um, alright," he said, mouth suddenly dry. And then he realized he hadn’t actually answered Jeremy’s question. “Y-yeah, I’m Michael’s friend.” He hoped that was still true.

"How's that homicidal son of a bitch?" Jeremy asked with a chuckle, clearly not catching onto Gavin's roiling feelings. He hoped he didn't vomit. That probably wouldn't do much to help his relationship with Jeremy.

"He's- uh... missing?" He hadn't meant for it to sound like a question, yet there it was.

Jeremy tilted his head. "You don't sound so sure."

"I- uh, I may have brought up a sensitive subject for him and... well, I haven't seen him since."

"What'd you say? Did you ask about his family or something?"

Gavin blinked, surprised. "Uh... yeah, actually."

Jeremy winced and shook his head. "That was... probably not a good idea."

"Why not?" Gavin asked, sensing that there were answers here, answers Jeremy could give him. He could help put the puzzle together, or at the very least give him a few more pieces.

Jeremy stared at Gavin, hard and long, like he was looking for something and couldn't seem to find it. He finally settled on asking, "How much do you know about the Hunter's Guild?"

"Er..." Gavin mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not... much." Jeremy kept staring. Gavin hated that everyone here had some secret not-really-mindreading powers that he wasn’t privy to. "Ok, so maybe I don't know anything. Happy?"

Jeremy sighed, but Gavin got the feeling he was somehow enjoying this. Like before, when it was obviously gossip to him. Maybe this was something similar. There was a glint in Jeremy’s eyes when he asked, "Would you like to know?"

Gavin considered it. On one hand, he wanted to know, he wanted to put together the puzzle and help Michael in a way the man wouldn't let him, be it because of pride or stubbornness. He wanted to know, he was positive of that. The mystery was hanging in front of him, within reach, and he had the means to reach out and grab it. To understand his friend. To become more involved in this world he’d only recently discovered and hopefully become more comfortable with it.

And yet... it felt like he was betraying Michael, somehow, seeking this out without the hunter knowing. And he felt something, deep in his chest, that was something like apprehension, like his body knew something he didn’t. Like it was shying away from this, from answers. The guilt and uncertainty stopped him, but only for a moment.

Eventually he forced out, "Yes," heart pounding with guilt and excitement.

In the end, he wished he'd said no.

* * *

 

It was a few days after that - three, to be exact, but who was counting? Certainly not Gavin - when he was getting ready to sleep, pulling on the striped cotton pants and worn t-shirt he'd owned for years. It wasn’t like he was the pinnacle of fashion. He didn’t have the energy to put forth the effort to care too much about the things he wore on a daily basis, much less what he wore to sleep.

He tried not to think of Michael, his stomach still twisting painfully whenever he did. But it proved a fruitless practice when a thud came from the living room.

Gavin jumped and almost knocked his elbow against his dresser. Instead, he knocked it against the wall and swore loudly. As his elbow throbbed he listened intently, wondering if it was just Ray - but, no, wait, Ray was out for a few more hours, pulling extra hours at work to get a new laptop. There were no more thuds, nor were there any crashes or growls, but there was a decidedly human groan, and Gavin let out a shaky breath but his body refused to relax.

On one hand it wasn't a monster - or maybe it was and it could just imitate human noises - on the other he was fairly certain he recognized those quiet swears filtering through his apartment's thin walls. He tried not to think about what Jeremy told him as he crept into his living room. He couldn’t help the voice that whispered at him quietly, reminding him of what Michael had been through.

His nerves were quickly replaced by panic as he saw what had dragged itself into his apartment.

It was obviously Michael, but he was matted with blood and there was a terrible cut on his stomach that was slowly oozing red onto his carpet - or it would be, had Michael's hands not been pressing into it, a red film keeping the blood inside his body. It was the smaller cuts that were bleeding into his carpet.

"God- what the- Michael-!" Gavin stuttered, trying to figure out where to start. He wanted to yell at him for staining his carpet, but at the same time he was crippled with worry. And he found he couldn't look him in the eyes, not with Jeremy's voice filtering through his head.

_"They start as kids, usually anywhere between 11 to 15."_

_"But... why?"_

_"Because when you're a kid your magic is malleable and you can be trained to use it in a specific way. Usually for Hunters its offensive, but they also have to teach them minor healing spells so they don't bleed to death after getting torn apart."_

"G-got- hurt bad, need a place to stay for a while," Michael ground out, pushing harder on his stomach. Gavin squawked, rushing toward his kitchen cupboards, looking for the emergency first aid kit he'd bought that day Ray had come home bloody and bruised without an explanation.

Abruptly, what Michael had said finally registered and he couldn't help but ask, "How long?"

"A... day or two... maybe?"

Gavin sighed and rushed back in with the small white box of medical supplies. He knelt down next to Michael, expecting to see a terrible wound that would make him gag at least five times before he was even done cleaning it. Instead he saw raw flesh slowly knitting back together and Gavin found he couldn't look Michael in the eyes. His breath caught in his throat and he ignored Jeremy’s voice.

"Are you alright?" he asked, barely above a whisper. The unsaid was loud in the beat between his question and Michael's response. He was welcome to stay for as long as he needed.

"Am I- what?" And something wavered in his voice, something unsure. It was the kind of voice that was answering a question it had never heard before. "Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I don't bloody well know," said Gavin forcefully, dumping disinfectant on the rapidly closing wound. He put hello kitty band aids on the smaller cuts. "Maybe because you've been torn to shreds and-" and because of what you've been through.

Michael let out a huff of laughter that didn't do much to hide his pain. "This isn't even the worst I've ever had. And besides, you should have seen the other guy."

"That doesn't make me feel any better, Michael."

Michael froze, his eyebrows furrowing. His face screwed up in confusion. "I- what?"

_"Typically Hunters don't_ get _emotions. At least, not as intimately as you and I would. They get the basics, but when it comes to... I don't know, real, honest compassion and basic human decency, they're usually at a loss. The ones that get out get better, but it takes time."_

_"But why don't they get it? You said they get... recruited at 11, but what about... their families?"_

_"Ah... right..."_

Gavin finished wiping the blood off of Michael's stomach and stood up, wondering how the hell he'd let this become his new reality. Well, to be completely fair, he hadn’t exactly run away from it, but still. He didn’t sign up for monster hunters bleeding on his carpet.

"Go take a shower," he said shortly. If he didn't get emotions, then he'd be as short as possible. That'd probably save a lot of confusion.

"But..." Michael said, scratching at the bright pink band aid on his cheek.

"It's fine, they're waterproof, and you're covered in blood." Gavin marched up to him and stuck a finger onto Michael's chest. "So go. Take. A. Shower."

"I- alright, chill out, dude," Michael said, finding it in himself to somehow be indignant. He started walking deeper into Gavin's apartment. A few seconds later - eleven, to be exact - his head popped back around the corner, beet red. "Uh... where's your bathroom?"

Gavin directed Michael in the right direction, smiling slightly, and soon enough he heard the water running. It would be a good few minutes before Michael would finish his shower and Gavin took the opportunity to freak the fuck out.

He honestly, really, had no idea what he was doing. Why was he letting that maniac stay in his shitty apartment? There was no way it would be able to survive a few days of Michael Jones. Plus, he now had to figure out how to get blood out of his carpet, and he really didn't want that in his search history. But, thanks to Michael, it seemed he didn't really have a choice. But, since he was emotionally and physically exhausted at the moment, he just took a towel and laid it over the red patch, making a mental note to bother with it later.

He wandered into his room and dug out some clothes he thought would fit Michael and shoved them into the bathroom, careful to keep the door in front of his eyes at all times. There was a muffled, "Thank you," from Michael.

Gavin went back into the living room and collapsed on his couch.

_"When a Hunter finishes their training they have to go through... initiation, I guess. That seems appropriately cultish, right?"_

_"Are you stalling?"_

_"Ok, maybe a little bit. So for initiation they... well, ok, there's a... thing, you can do with magic. It's very hard and it takes a very practiced mage to be able to pull off properly, at least the way they use it."_

_"What is it?"_

_"It's, uh, the manipulation of memories."_

_"Memories of... what?"_

Gavin buried his face in his hands. He should not, under any circumstances, be taking this in stride. He should not be accepting all this, but he was. God fucking damn it, he was. He didn’t want to, and it left a sour taste in his mouth. It made his mind wander to possibilities, things that shouldn’t have been impossible in a normal world. Things that were, frankly, just a little bit terrifying.

Like, what if one day Ray never came home because some monster attacked him? What if somehow Ray lost all memories of Gavin? Or vice versa? Or his family? He hated thinking about it, so he quickly shifted to the matter at hand.

Michael was back in his apartment and, considering how it had ended last time, he didn’t have high hopes for the outcome of this visit. But still, knowing what he knew, he couldn't just kick Michael to the curb. The Hunter needed someone solid in his life, at least until he found whoever it was he was looking for.

God, Gavin couldn't imagine what it must have been like for him. But maybe Michael didn't either. Maybe he didn't have any memories of... that. It would certainly make sense. But… was he even aware of what he’d lost? He’d talked about his family before, so he must have some memories. That, or someone had just told him. Gavin wasn’t sure which was worse.

_"They, um, remove all... distractions."_

_"Distractions? Like... like what?"_

_Jeremy took a deep breath before spitting out something that was too fast for Gavin to catch._

_"I- what did you say?"_

_"I said they remove the memories of... of their family, of any relationships they had before they joined the Hunter's Guild."_

_Gavin felt his blood run cold, and for a solid minute his brain refused to process what he'd just heard. When he finally had enough presence of mind to speak, he couldn't keep the sheer horror from his voice. "I- but... why?"_

_"I told you. They think it's a distraction."_

"Hey," Michael said, and the sudden presence and voice was enough to make Gavin scream, only barely stifled by his face's place still in his hands. "Sorry, I- uh, took a shower, like you asked." He looked very uncomfortable in this situation and Gavin could understand why.

Instead of looking intimidating in his usual clothes, now he looked incredibly small in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. If Gavin was being completely honest, he looked kind of cute, but he wasn't being honest and he was still too caught up with the fact that he _didn't remember his family._

"Yeah, I can see that," Gavin sighed. He scooted over as Michael lowered himself gingerly onto the couch. Gavin wisely chose not to say anything, but, if Michael started bleeding on his couch, he would.

There was a pause, and it was just long enough to be awkward, before Michael broke it by asking, "Do you... have that game?"

Gavin sighed. "It's almost midnight, Michael."

"O-oh, right, yeah," he said too quickly, poorly disguising his disappointment.

"I'll let you play it, though." Michael perked up considerably and Gavin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He totally didn't want to smile, nope, it was all exasperation. "On one condition."

Michael suddenly looked guarded, but a resigned kind of guarded. Like he had expected something like this. Gavin decided not to overanalyze every one of Michael’s ticks. He felt like if he did his mind would find all kinds of morbid explanations that he didn’t want to consider. "Ok, name your price."

What the...? Alright then. He wasn’t overanalyzing. He wasn’t. "You have to answer a few questions."

Michael blinked. "Uh... alright?"

Gavin leaned close enough to be uncomfortable. He looked straight into Michael’s eyes, and if he tried, he could see the lost look of a child in them. Good thing he wasn’t trying. "Who are you, Michael Jones."

That seemed to floor him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to figure out how to respond to that kind of question. Miraculously he found it in himself to be abrasive in answering. Gavin got the feeling this was his usual personality; he'd just had the pleasure of always catching Michael off guard. "Could you maybe be more specific?"

"Alright," Gavin said, leaning back and arranging his thoughts. There was so much he wanted to know, but this, he supposed, was the most immediate concern. "Why are you in the city."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "I already told you that."

"You said you were looking for someone you didn't remember, but you also said something else. Something about there being a lot of monsters around lately."

"I- yeah, there are."

"Ok," Gavin said slowly, feeling like he was pulling teeth. "Why is that?"

Michael shifted minutely, twisting his hands in the shirt Gavin had given him. "There's- there's something bad happening, at least I think there is. It's... something powerful is waking up... or has woken up, and I'm trying to find it and- and neutralize it before it does anything to permanently damage the city."

"What is it?" Gavin asked, hushed a bit because he couldn't tell if Michael was bullshitting him or not.

"It's- uh, well, we call it a demon," he said, throwing it out there like it was no big deal and yet it was painfully obvious that he was worried how Gavin would react.

He took a deep breath and buried his face in his hands again. "Ok, that's fine, right? Just... fight it like you did those other monsters."

Michael laughed, loud and short and nervous. "Yeah, no. They're... more complicated. A demon isn't... just a monster. A monster is a lost cause; a demon is smart. They usually use vessels. Possess people. And if I kill the demon while its possessing someone then I kill an otherwise innocent person."

Gavin blinked. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. He finally settled on, "Ok."

There was a beat of silence and Michael shuffled his feat. He opened his mouth to say something just as Gavin shattered the silence with, "How do you... kill it, then?"

"You... trap it and get it out of whoever it's possessing. Then you can... kill it. But it's still powerful, even without a vessel. I think it can like... absorb magic from humans. At least that's what most Hunters think."

Gavin tilted his head. "But what if... I don't know, the person doesn't have magic?"

Michael shook his head. "No, all living things from our world have magic." Gavin gave him a puzzled look so he elaborated. "There are two... worlds, I guess. The physical one, where we live, and the nonphysical, where the monsters come from. In our world the magic comes from all living things, but humans have the most. In the nonphysical world the world itself holds the magic. It's significantly harder to get magic from the world itself, but easy to tap into unawakened magic, so monsters tend to take trips to our world and they usually end up causing… trouble. So, that's why the Hunter's Guild was created."

Gavin felt like "trouble" was an understatement but he let it slide. He was too busy processing everything he'd just been told anyways. He honestly wasn't sure how true it was. He didn't feel very magical. But what did he know.

Gavin honestly wasn't sure what to say or ask next, so he just stood up and fiddled with the Xbox, turning it and a controller on and throwing it at Michael. He sat down heavily as Michael grinned and started shuffling through games, choosing the same one he'd played last time.

"How's your search been going?" Gavin asked tentatively after a few minutes of Michael running around in the game.

He twitched but didn't stop playing the game. "Uh, not good. Every time I try to track him down his... signal, to put it in jackass terms, keeps getting interrupted. So I haven't been able to find him."

Gavin hummed and nodded, acting like he had even the slightest idea what he was talking about. "Well, I hope you find him soon."

Michael's muttered, "Yeah, me too," was the last thing they said for a while. They settled into comfortable silence, Gavin fiddling with his phone and slowly dropping off to sleep as Michael continued to play Stardew Valley.

There was a soft knock on the door front door and Gavin jerked awake again. Michael was standing, stiff and with a hand hovering over his side. He must still be hurting.

"Michael, what-?"

" _Sh!_ " was all the explanation he supplied, slowly inching toward the front door that was now being shut. The sound of plastic bags hitting the kitchen counter made Gavin raise his eyebrow. What the hell was wrong with Michael? He was pretty sure that was just Ray… right?

"Michael-" Gavin tried, hoping to stop this before something bad happened.

"Sh!" he hissed again, effectively cutting Gavin off, and asked, "Remember what I just said? About the demon?"

"Yeah...?" Gavin said hesitantly. Michael made a jerking motion with his head toward the kitchen, a motion he took to mean that the… demon had, somehow, found its way into Gavin’s apartment. Gavin felt the blood drain from his face and he was caught up in the moment, glancing all over the room, as if the demon would somehow pop up and kill them all. He wondered how they were going to warn Ray. Did the demon follow Ray home? Was it going to hurt him?

Michael crept to the side of the doorway into the kitchen. The lights were low and it was just a black, human shaped shadow that barely took a step into the living room before Michael acted. Suddenly the shadow was illuminated by a complicated pattern on the ground that was made primarily of a five pointed star. The shadow fell with a thump and Gavin felt cold. He flipped the lights on just to be sure.

"But..." he said, and his breath caught in his throat. "But that's Ray."


	6. Prove Me Wrong

Ray wasn't one to ask for much. Hell, he was fairly content with his life thus far. Sure, he could do with a consistent family, a college degree that didn’t sink him thousands of dollars into debt, and a friend that didn't disappear one day and never come back, but who was he to complain? He probably did something in some shitty past life where he was an asshole. Not that that was much different from his current life, but still. 

The point was, while he _totally_ didn't mind, he still felt like he didn't deserve all the shit thrown at him over the years. But it was fine, he was still alive. Or maybe that wasn't the good part. He wasn't really sure anymore. 

But, back on subject, what he really wanted, right now as he was taking in the familiar sensations of his apartment, was to know what the fuck had just happened. The last thing he remembered was walking back to the apartment after a long night at work, and sure, this had been happening a lot recently, to the point where it was worrying, but there was something different this time. 

Usually when he blacked out - and he hated it that there was a usually - he woke up in bed or in the shower or something. But he was laying on his stomach in the middle of his living room floor, something heavy in the air. He blinked and tried to stand up, rubbing his eyes blearily in confusion as he only managed to sit up shakily. Everything was wobbling and shifting and he couldn’t really figure out what was going on around him. He reached up to his face just to make sure he was wearing his glasses. Yep, he was. So why was everything so blurry?

He vaguely became aware of voices, ones he recognized. Or- yeah, he was sure he recognized both of the voices. He tried to focus on what they were saying, but only caught bits and pieces. 

"-have to tell him-"

"Yeah? How do we-"

"-in the dark!" 

"-talking, he's waking up."

The next thing Ray knew Gavin was crouching in front of him, strangely in focus compared to the rest of the world. He reached out a hand that ended up just barely hovering over his arm, as if he was afraid to touch him. "Ray?" he asked hesitantly. And then, when Ray found he couldn't make his voice work, "Ray, are you... are you alright?" 

He took a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut and mustering up the energy to say, "Yeah. What- what happened?" He felt like he wasn’t taking in enough air. He tried to remember everything he had ever learned about breathing exercises.

Gavin let out a hesitant laugh. Something was definitely going on. Gavin was literally the worst at any type of deception. "Why would you assume something happened?" Ray resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

He continued to level his breathing, slowly letting his body get the oxygen it needed, and considered how he should answer. On one hand, he could lie and hope he wasn’t called out for it. But that wouldn’t help anyone and he got the feeling Gavin knew something he didn’t. On the other hand, he could tell the truth, which was, in essence, that he knew nothing about what was going on. He settled on the honest answer which would hopefully get him some answers in return. "I mean, this isn't exactly the first time this has happened."

Ray could feel Gavin stiffen even if he still refused to make physical contact with him. "A-and what happened? From your perspective, I mean." 

Ray shrugged, letting his eyes close. Not only were his eyelids incredibly heavy, but the strange out of focus world was making him nauseous. He hoped he didn’t puke all over his own floor. "I have absolutely no idea. Also, I'm really tired. Can I just sleep?" He had no idea what he'd done that made him so exhausted. Maybe he should care, but at the moment he was finding it incredibly difficult to string together two proper sentences. 

"No," said the other voice that Ray totally didn't forget about. "Not until we figure out how to deal with this."

Ray furrowed his eyebrows. He knew that voice, he swore he did. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, forcing the world back to normal and focusing on the man standing behind Gavin, his stance guarded and slightly abrasive. Ray straightened up like he'd been electrocuted, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. 

"M-Michael?" he choked out, and it cracked like no time had passed since he'd seen his old friend. The old friend that had disappeared one day, the old friend that was staring at him without any recognition. His stomach dropped out of his body. Somehow he knew, with shocking certainty in the back of his head, that Michael didn't remember him. He didn't know why or how, just that it was a fact.

_Come on,_ he thought desperately, _come on, prove me wrong. Say something, please._ His old friend stood there, stiff and frozen, and no affirmations came out of his mouth. No old jokes or greetings. They just stared at each other until Ray broke, choking out, “I- Michael, it's me, R-Ray, you- I haven't seen you in-" He felt something in his chest knot and twist and something wet drip down his cheeks and suddenly he couldn't take in enough air to continue. 

* * *

 

Years ago a playground was completed in a poor neighborhood somewhere between New York and New Jersey. For many of the kids there it was a place to play and run and make new friends. It was a place where the mulch was ground up and thrown around and kids went home with huge smiling faces with missing teeth and cuts all over. For a select few, though, it was where their parents would drop them off when they had to work and couldn’t afford a sitter.

One of the latter few, a kid with dark hair and dark eyes with large, plastic rimmed glasses, was sitting on a swing, a large hoodie practically swallowing him whole. He kicked periodically at the mulch, glaring slightly and wishing he was somewhere else. Or someone else. Like the son of a rich businessman or movie star, the ones in the movies his mom liked so much. Then maybe he’d have a sitter so he didn’t have to be around so many strangers. Or maybe shoes that weren’t held together with duct tape. Or friends. 

He sighed and slouched down deeper on the swing seat. 

"What's your problem?" a voice asked, slightly angry at nothing in particular and everything at the same time. 

Ray glanced up over his glasses and jerked, trying to sit up straight again, only to shake the swing seat so badly he found himself on the ground, his legs still entangled in the seat. The kid who had talked to him before burst into laughter louder than the background noise of the playground. Somehow the other kids were still playing and not paying any attention to Ray. He was both comforted and offended by that fact. 

He felt something hot run down his cheeks and he sniffled, desperately trying not to cry. It was bad enough he'd just made a fool of himself, not he had to exacerbate his humiliation further by crying. He was almost seven, he shouldn’t be crying. He was too old to cry. 

He heard footsteps crunching in the mulch - oh, good, there's mulch in his hair now and his glasses were barely hanging on his face, screwed sideways by his fall and the hands trying to block the other kid's view of his face. The laughing abruptly stopped and, ok, he wasn't expecting that. 

"Are... are you ok?" the same voice asked, concerned and yet still holding some of the anger as before like a lifeline. 

"Y-yeah," Ray hiccupped, trying to glare but feeling it fall short. "'Course I am." He pushed himself up and hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt. 

He was about to leave, to the other side of the playground where he wouldn't have to face the scorn of one of his peers. To his surprise the kid cleared his throat and said, "I- I just... saw that you didn't have any friends and..." He trailed off, his face getting red. 

"O-oh," Ray whispered, and the swirling emotions in his stomach settled somewhat. "I-I'm Ray," he offered. 

"Michael," the kid said, shuffling his feet and glaring at the ground as if it was directly responsible for how red his face was getting. "Do you, uh, play any video games?" 

* * *

 

Ray sat stiffly on his couch, staring ahead at the man who had been a teenager the last time he had seen him. He shuffled and refused to meet Ray's eyes. 

It was hard to process, not just because he was so tired but because of the abruptness of the situation. But then again Michael had left abruptly, it made sense that he would return the same way. That didn't make it any less shocking. It didn’t help his shaking hands or rapidly beating heart. It didn’t help the fact that he wanted to sleep for three years.

There was so much wrong with this situation. No one was talking, everyone was stiff and nervous when they should have all been laughing and enjoying each other’s company by now. Michael and Ray should have been sharing stories about the years they’d been apart, Gavin should be laughing at however he had met Michael. But no one knew where to start. Everything was too messed up.

And, to top it all off, there was, of course, the fact that Michael didn't remember Ray. 

Ray had no idea how or why it had happened, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He could live in blissful ignorance his whole life and be spared whatever horror story had landed Michael in this situation.

Ray almost jumped out of his skin when Michael said, "Stop staring at me," incredibly stiffly, angrily, but it was a guarded anger, the kind he put out when he didn't want anyone to know what he was really feeling. It was good to know some things didn't change. 

"No," he said, suddenly angry himself, and it was shocking because he rarely got genuinely angry. "Not until you both tell me what the _fuck_ is going on."

Gavin shifted nervously where he was standing next to Michael. "I think I should leave you two alone for a while-"

"Oh no you don't," Ray said at the same time Michael said, "You're not getting out of this that easily." 

Gavin let his shoulders drop but he stayed. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to say. Something like understanding passed over his face and Ray knew that look. Gavin had figured something out. "Michael, who were you looking for?"

"W-what?" Michael asked, stiffening terribly, looking for all the world like a deer about to be hit by a car. Or a gangly British asshole who was usually so blunt when it didn’t matter but now that Ray wanted answers he had to go through this roundabout questioning.

"You told me you were here because you were looking for someone. What was his name."

Michael swallowed, looking down at the floor and refusing to meet anyone's eyes. He muttered, "Ray Narvaez Jr." 

Ray leapt up from the couch. "What the fuck?!" he shouted, and because he couldn't think of anything else to say he added another, "What the fuck!" for emphasis. 

"Michael," Gavin started way more calmly then he had any right to be. "That's his name." He gestured to Ray. 

"Of course it is!" Ray shouted, trying not to explode and slowly failing. "We grew up together! We met on that old playground - we went to school together! You were my first-" he cut himself off, or, more accurately, a choking sob cut him off. "You disappeared one day- where the hell did you go?" 

"I- I can't tell you that," Michael said, his face terribly white and unmoving. Gavin let out an exasperated sigh. 

"Not this again! We agreed to be honest with each other. You can't do this secret Hunter shit when it's about one of us." 

"Secret _what_?" Ray asked, meaning to shout but having it come out barely above a whisper. He was, unsurprisingly, ignored. 

"And how the hell am I supposed to explain that?!" Michael yelled back to Gavin, and Ray resisted the urge to butt in. It wasn't like this was about him or anything like that. 

"I don't know, do some of your- you know," Gavin said, wiggling his fingers in a way that apparently meant something to Michael because his eyes widened and he glanced at Ray, panicked, and shook his head. Gavin let his hands fall. "Well why not?" 

"I- I-," he said, and he looked like he wanted to continue this conversation away from Ray but decided otherwise and said, "I've spent the last few months looking for him. I can't scare him away when I've only just found him." It was a whisper but Ray heard it anyways. 

And just like that his anger evaporated. Sure, he was still confused beyond belief, and there was a strange storm of emotions in his chest, but at least now he understood why Michael was skirting around the problem. Ray stood up, still a little shaky, and walked over to Michael. He was disappointed to see that he was still the short one. 

"Michael," he said, and damn it felt good to say his name to his face, "No matter what it is, I promise I won't freak out."

"But-"

"I promise."

Michael still looked hesitant but he nodded and stepped back. He passed his right hand through the air and the next thing Ray knew he was sitting down heavily on the couch again and Michael was holding a sword he'd _pulled from thin air_ , and he said, just above a whisper, "Ok, looks like I lied." 

"What?" Michael asked, startled, and the sword disappeared again abruptly. 

"I mean," Ray said slowly, "It's one thing to expect someone to say they like killed a man or something, but it's another to expect someone to pull some magic bullshit in front of them." 

"Ray, are you-" 

"I'm fine, Gavin. Just let me process this." He buried his face in his hands. This was not how he expected his night to go. This was not anything like the many times he’d imagined Michael coming back.

There was silence for a few minutes and Ray could hear Michael and Gavin shuffling around nervously. He really, really didn't want this to be real. If this were real life there'd have already been tears shed and losses shared and Ray would be happy to finally have his friend back. But, apparently, this was some weird fever dream and none of this had happened and instead of being relieved he was... well, he wasn't sure what he was. He knew one thing, though. He wanted answers. 

"Alright," Ray said, taking a deep breath to steel himself, and he could have sworn he saw Michael flinch. "Why are you here?" 

"Ah... well, see, there's this... thing I was looking for." 

Gavin made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and took the initiative to rip the band aid off. "It was a demon."

Ray flinched but didn't say anything. He figured if he was going to get through tonight he would just have to take everything in stride. "Did you find... it?" 

Gavin and Michael exchanged glances that Ray really didn't like. "Yeah, he did," Gavin said. "And... uh... there's no... easy way to say this..." Gavin rubbed the back of his neck and Ray knew it was bad to make blunt Gavin Free hesitate. "You're... kind of possessed."

Ray felt something form in his throat, blocking his voice. He gaped like a fish and tried to rationalize it in a way that didn't ultimately end in the conclusion that what Gavin was saying was true. There was no way. Demons weren’t even a possibility a few minutes ago, and now he was trying to figure out an argument rationalizing how he totally wasn’t possessed by one. He failed, and desperately wanted to be in his bed, dreaming all of this. But there was a voice in the back of his mind - and oh Jesus it didn't particularly sound like him - that insisted this was real and that Gavin was right. 

Still, though, he couldn't bring himself to actually say that, so instead he said, "I don't believe you." 

His lie must have been convincing because Gavin and Michael looked like they didn't know how to counter that. Michael opened his mouth, and it was moving, and words were coming out, but darkness was covering Ray's eyes and he felt himself stand up...

And the next thing he knew hands were catching him as his knees gave out under him. Something clattered out of his hand and onto the ground. He blinked blearily, feeling even worse than when he woke up on the ground... however long ago that was. 

"Ray!" Michael shouted, obviously worried. “Fuck- are you ok?”

"I'm alright," he choked out. "Keep your pants on, Michael." He dazedly realized they were now in the small space in their apartment they called the kitchen. He rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out how he’d gotten from the living room to here. Finally, he settled on asking, "Uh... what happened?"

Gavin looked away and mumbled, "Look at your hand." 

Ray blinked and held up both his hands, screwing his face up in confusion when he noticed one of them had writing on it. The weird part was it was obviously his own handwriting yet he didn't remember writing it... oh. 

Lying is unbecoming. You should trust your friends. 

Ray felt hollow and scared and he wanted to rip his own skin off. There was something inside him, and that something could just... make him do whatever it wanted whenever it wanted. And he was powerless to do anything and...

He noticed he was breathing raggedly, and he was on the ground now, and Michael was kneeling in front of him, trying with a trembling voice to calm him down. It took longer than anyone in the room would have liked, but Ray eventually leveled out his own breathing. That didn't mean he had calmed down, oh no, but he was coherent enough to say, "Ok, fine." And that was him saying it, he said that, and it was his choice. "I believe you."

"Ray-" Gavin started to say, but Ray continued on. 

"I believe you, and I won't say you're lying next time you tell me something, but-" and he felt like he couldn't breathe again, but he worked through it. "But I need some space. To. Process this."

"Of course," Gavin said, and Michael nodded, but only after Gavin jabbed him in the ribs. "Take as much time as you need."

And Ray stumbled to his room, collapsing into his bed, and hoping against everything that tomorrow this would have all been a dream. 


	7. He Doesn't Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter cuz I'm done with school for a while and have time to WRITE. Alternate title of this chapter is "what not to do when you find out your roommate is possessed."

Gavin stared at the unconscious body of his roommate, not sure how to feel about all this. He'd told himself a while ago and with firm resolution that he would take everything that Michael could throw at him in stride. But that was before it was Ray on the floor. That was before there had even been the possibility that he’d have to drag another person into this mess. He had said he would accept everything. He was struggling, to say the least, because he didn’t want to accept this.

"That's Ray," he repeated, and he didn't know why Michael flinched at the name. "That's my roommate." And he didn’t deserve whatever was going to happen when he woke up.

Michael's face quickly adopted a mask of professionalism that Gavin had started associating with something happening that was probably going to push him off the edge. Well, jokes on Michael, he fell off the edge a long time ago. Now he just had to keep Ray from going off the same edge. How? He had no idea. "Well, your roommate is possessed."

And he’d figured that out, somewhere in the back of his mind, but he didn’t want to believe it. “No,” he said simply.

Michael blinked at him, a look of utter confusion passing over his face. “What?”

“I said no,” Gavin said, firmly and stubbornly. “It was bad enough, when you kept showing up and dragging me into all of this.” He took a step toward Michael and put a finger on his chest. “You don’t get to drag Ray into all of this too.”

And suddenly Michael was glaring and Gavin had to take a step back, because he’d never seen Michael like that before and, with a jolt, he realized he’d never crossed that line before. He’d never contested Michael’s judgement like that. “The thing about this is its real whether or not you want to believe it. Your friend is possessed, and you can either stand there denying it,” here his voice dipped low, and Gavin didn’t like it. “Or you can help me do something about it.”

Gavin opened and closed his mouth a few times and he was sure he looked like a fool, just standing there and gaping at Michael. He didn’t want it to be real, he didn’t want this to be true. He wanted a safe, normal relationship with Ray, with jokes and lazy conversations. He didn’t want one of his only footholds on normalcy to crumble underneath him.

But his gaze kept getting dragged to Ray on the floor, sprawled out and eyes closed. His mouth was dry and he hated how his stomach turned looking at Ray, like there was something off about him. He swallowed and asked, "How long has he been... possessed?"

"I..." Michael bit his lip, suddenly unsure but still clinging onto his anger like a lifeline. He tried to sound authoritative as he said, "The magic signature has been getting stronger over the past few months, but before that it was practically nonexistent-"

"So basically you have no idea," Gavin said, cutting past the bullshit Michael was trying to pull, and getting a glare in return.

Michael relented, though, setting aside some of his pride to say, "No."

Gavin ran a shaking hand through his hair, suddenly considering what all this could mean if it was real. And he still didn’t want to accept this was real, but he could feel his resolve crumbling. A terrible thought occurred to him and he asked, "So basically I could have been sharing my apartment with a demon for almost half a year now?"

Michael shook his head, and Gavin only managed to relax slightly. "No, you've been sharing it with him," he gestured to Ray, still sprawled out on the floor, a white circle glowing lightly under him. It was probably more sleep than he had gotten in a week, Gavin thought with a shaky smile. "The magic has only been active for about two months so even if the demon was there before then it wasn't active. Plus, it's taken a while for me to actually find him. There's been some kind of... disturbance, kind of like an imperfect mask, but I can't figure out where it's coming from."

"I..." Gavin shifted, feeling something grow in the pit of his stomach. Somehow he got the feeling he should know more about this than he did. But he was floundering, almost drowning, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Ray. He didn't deserve to go through this, to have to deal with this. From the little he knew of Ray's past he knew he wouldn't take it well. He doubted anyone would. "Can you prove it?"

"No," said a voice, and it took Gavin a second to realize Michael hadn’t said anything. Gavin felt himself spin around and he was facing... well, it defiantly wasn't Ray. Ray didn't sound like that; Ray didn't stand like that. Ray's eyes didn't reflect light like that. Ray could never look like that. "He can't."

"Shit," Michael hissed, and he started rooting through his pockets for something. His voice was shaking and Gavin realized with a start that it had been this whole time. Michael was as scared as he was, albeit for different reasons. "Shit, shit, this is what happens when you get distracted."

Gavin wasn't paying attention to Michael. He found himself taking a hesitant step towards... Not Ray, being careful to stay outside of the circle Michael had made. He doubted he’d get attacked, but it was better safe than sorry. Not Ray's eyes followed him and he had to resist the urge to shiver. It felt… strange. And cold. And it was so strange, looking at a friend and seeing a stranger. Gavin hated it.

He found his mouth was dry again and he had to swallow a few times before he could get himself to say, "Ray?" holding onto what little hope he still had.

"Guess again," said Not Ray, and any doubts Gavin had were evaporated instantly by the toothy, predatory grin whatever was inside of his friend gave him.

"I- but- why?" Gavin sputtered, trying to arrange his thoughts into words. So far it was not working. He wanted to ask the... demon where it'd come from, why it was there, why it was doing this to Ray. He wanted to ask so many things that refused to turn into any sort of coherency in his head. He tried and failed, every new question getting pushed to the side every time the demon caught his eyes.

He wanted to rip it out of Ray, because there was no way a fucking demon meant well. There was no way Ray deserved this.

"Don't worry," it said, and Gavin wanted to clamp his hands over his ears, "He has no idea."

Gavin figured "he" was probably a reference to Ray and he didn't know if that made it better or worse. All he knew was that his stomach twisted and he almost gagged. Thankfully, Michael chose that moment to start saying something, and it was a second before Gavin realized he didn't understand what Michael was saying. It took another few seconds to realize he was chanting. Gavin wanted to give Michael a puzzled look but found he couldn't tear his eyes away from the demon, who's slight smirk had disappeared, replaced by something between a wince and a scowl.

The demon stepped forward, and Gavin flinched. Its eyes were locked firmly on Michael and if it could have Gavin had no doubt he would tear the Hunter's throat out. Its eyes were full of malice and… they weren’t Ray’s normal dark brown. They were a pale, lifeless blue, and it was only icing on the cake as far as Gavin was concerned.

Its shoulders were stiff and its hands were at its sides, hands slowly curling into fists. It looked like it wanted to do something, anything, but as it was it couldn't seem to step out of the circle. That only made Gavin feel marginally better because, as Michael finished the chant, the demon brought its hands up and smashed them down on what seemed to be thin air. Then it rippled outwards, a rainbow of colors and sparks forming a wall between the demon and the outside world.

"W-what?" Michael stuttered, looking between the small notebook he was holding and the demon who looked, to put it lightly, absolutely enraged. Michael seemed genuinely terrified, and that didn’t make Gavin feel any better. "That should have - you shouldn't be possessing him anymore. That should have worked."

He glanced down again at his notebook and looked like he was about to start the chant again. He was interrupted by a terrible cracking sound, like glass, and Gavin felt the bloom drain from his face. The demon kept hitting the wall of energy trapping it and, either because Michael's magic wasn't as strong as he thought it was, or the demon's was infinitely stronger, a spiderweb of cracks formed in the wall of magic.

"I wouldn't-" the demon said, punctuating his words with a beat of its fists, "-try that again."

Gavin felt something touch him, and he jumped and whipped around, finding Michael's hand on his arm, slowly dragging him away from the demon. "Gavin, you need to get out."

"What?" was all he could think to say, even if there were probably a million other things that could have been more helpful. Too bad he couldn't think of any at the moment.

"I don't know why, but the exorcism didn't work. I- I'm sorry, but I think your roommate might be-"

He was cut off by the sound of a million pieces of glass falling down in a cascade and, before Gavin could think to look and see what had caused it, he felt something grab the back of his shirt and he was sailing through the air. He braced for impact, only to land neatly on the couch. Ok... that wasn't what he had been expecting.

He looked dazedly over at where Michael was now being lifted up by the front of his shirt by the demon and wondered how he always got stuck in this situation. Then his eyes widened and his heart almost stopped when he realized he should be terrified for Michael.

"You will leave," the demon was saying, and there wasn't even a shadow of Ray's voice anymore. "And you will not come back."

"B-but-" Michael wheezed out, and Gavin winced, realizing he'd had the wind knocked out of him in the few seconds he hadn't been paying attention. He wanted desperately to do something, but what could he do? He wasn’t some… Hunter. He couldn’t fight a demon, much less on the chance that he’d hurt his friend.

"I am not here to hurt these people," the demon said, and that in itself was almost surreal, as Michael struggled weakly to get away. "I am here because of mistakes I have made in the past. You do not get to come here and try to force me away."

Something crackled in the air, something dangerous and inherently demonic, and it almost seemed to suck all the air out of the room. Gavin, while his heart was beating wildly and his head felt light, wasn’t fazed by the magic. It crackled like electricity over Ray's hands and Gavin stood up, and he really wasn’t sure why. He walked over to the two other people in his apartment and put a hand on each of their chests. A small part of his mind was screaming at him, trying to get him to see sense and just get away, but the energy flickered and guttered out and Michael was dropped back onto the ground.

The demon stumbled back, gasping, and the blue in its eyes faded back to brown and for a second something flickered in its eyes. Something that almost looked like Ray. Then it was gone and Ray's body collapsed onto the ground in a heap.

Gavin gulped, looking down at his hands and wondering what the hell he just did.

"What the-?" Michael asked, loudly and obviously confused, voice still shaking. "What- fucking- WHAT?!"

"I... don't... know," said Gavin slowly, still staring at his hands. That... that was him, right? He had done that? He'd incapacitated the big bad demon masquerading as his best friend? Somehow he felt strangely calm about it. Like this was just a normal day and he hadn’t been absolutely terrified a second ago.

Michael stumbled over to Gavin and grabbed his hands forcefully. He dropped them with a yelp, and Gavin didn't know why. "Uh... you ok?"

"No!" Michael shouted, louder than what was strictly necessary. "What the hell- you just- you absorbed his energy!"

"I did what now," Gavin intoned, and really it wasn't a question. Somehow he wasn't surprised. He was confused, yes, but not surprised. He knew he should be, but he couldn’t find it in himself. They were back on familiar ground, him and Michael, no one else getting dragged into this mess. Then he glanced at Ray again and winced.

"I- I don't know how-" Michael cut himself off and shook his head. "Never mind. We'll figure it out when we take... your friend to someone I know."

Michael started to move but Gavin grabbed his arm, withdrawing quickly as Michael flinched. "Sorry. But... what do you mean take him?" He had a feeling he knew, and a sick feeling was asserting itself in his stomach.

"Well we can't just fucking leave him here," Michael said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I have some friends who can figure out what's going on here."

Gavin looked quickly between his two friends. He knew with a strange certainty what Michael was implying. "Excuse me? You're not taking him to be... experimented on! He's a person! He's got rights!"

Michael shook his head. "No, if what I think is right then he's a danger. And... and he shouldn't have been able to... to break through that charm, so either that demon is more powerful than I thought, or somethings going on and I'm weaker than usual." His gaze landed on Gavin and he muttered a small, “Oh,” as if he’d just figured something out but decided not to share it.

Gavin couldn't believe what he was hearing. "We have to tell him what's going on before we just- just drag him away somewhere." He shook his head. A second ago he was denying that anything was wrong. Now he was suggested they forcibly push Ray into all of this. He supposed that, in the long run, Ray was already a part of all of this. It would be better if he knew what was going on.

"Yeah?" Michael asked in a harsh voice Gavin had never heard from him before. It wasn’t exactly angry. It was more… frightened, though Gavin didn’t know why. "And how do we explain that? Just say, 'Hey, you may or may not know this, but you're possessed by a demon!' Yeah, that'll go over real fucking well."

"We can't just keep him in the dark!" Gavin protested. He didn't like how Michael was acting, not in the slightest. "He's a person. And my friend." Michael flinched at that. "Besides, didn't you hear what the... demon said? It said it wasn't here to hurt anyone."

"It could have been lying," Michael snapped, and he looked like he was about to started shouting again. He stopped himself abruptly and stiffened. "Stop talking, he's waking up."

* * *

  
As soon as Ray's door closed Michael dragged him off to the side and whispered harshly, "What the fuck."

"You're going to have to be more specific," Gavin returned, miraculously better composed than Michael at this point. He frowned when he noticed Michael was shaking terribly. "Hey, are you ok?"

"What the fuck," Michael spat out, and he just sat down onto Gavin's couch heavily. He opened his mouth to say something else, but all that came out was a gasp and a sob. He covered his mouth with his hands and sat there, eyes wide and shocked.

Gavin realized suddenly just what, exactly, this was about.

"Hey, it's- it's all right, Michael- honestly," Gavin tried to comfort him, settling himself gingerly on the other end of the couch. He almost liked it better when Michael was angry. It was a strange thing, seeing him so vulnerable.

"I was going to take him to the Hunters," Michael whispered. Then, with a gasp, "I don't even recognize him."

Gavin didn't know how, but he hadn't consciously realized that Michael wouldn't recognize Ray. It made sense, what with everything Jeremy had told him about what the Hunters did. He supposed friends – or whatever Michael and Ray had been – counted as a distraction. But still, it seemed to be tearing Michael apart.

"I'm sure he'll forgive you for that," Gavin tried, feeling like it fell short. He wasn’t good at comfort in normal situations. He was utterly lost when it came to this.

"You don't understand," Michael said, suddenly frantic. His hands fluttered from his neck to his hair to sticking his fingers in his mouth and chewing the nails. "I thought- God, I'm such a fucking moron. I thought I would- that if I ever saw him again- that I'd recognize him. But I don't- Gavin, I have no idea who he is. I don't remember him at all."

Gavin didn't know what to say to that. Hell, he couldn't even really understand what it would be like, to find the last piece of his past and not recognize it even when he desperately wished he did. He guessed he’d feel pretty lost. And scared. And helpless.

Gavin wished he could do something, that he could think of something, anything to say, but all he could offer Michael was a hand on his shoulder as he buried his face in his hands. He didn't cry, at least not out loud, but his shoulders and hands shook terribly.

"God, what am I going to do now?" Michael asked, and Gavin knew it was rhetorical. "I don't- what else do I have to do now? I can't stay here- fuck, I can't look him in the eyes. He- every time he sees me there's so much hope- he's thinking about how we used to be. But I can't- I don't know how we used to be, what we used to be. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Start over?" Gavin offered. Michael looked at him curiously through his fingers, his eyes shining. "I mean, like, if you don't remember him... just start over. Like you just met. Work up to... whatever you used to be."

Michael stared at him, like he wasn't sure what to think of Gavin. A watery smile cracked his face and he leaned over, ruffling Gavin's hair despite the squawked protest. He said, his voice thick and wavering, "You're a good kid, you know that?"

"I'm the same age as you!" Gavin sputtered indignantly, smoothing his hair back down.

He pretended like he didn’t see Michael viciously wipe away the wet tracks on his face as he laughed loudly. He stopped abruptly when there was a knock on the door.

Michael was about to stand up, but Gavin beat him to it, shooting a glare at the Hunter. "You're staying there." He didn’t want to say it, didn’t even really want to think it, but he couldn’t help but feel like the, “You’ve done enough already,” was conveyed as clearly as if he’d said it out loud.

He walked slowly to the front door, hoping desperately that it wasn't some monster waiting to gut him in a second. He took a deep breath and opened the door and saw...

"Jeremy?"

"Hi," Jeremy said, and pushed into his apartment without any preface. He nodded to Michael, who had made his way to the hallway near the front door, but didn’t seem surprised to see him.

Gavin had no idea how to react to this, so he settled on sputtering, "What- why are you here? How are you here? I never told you where I live!"

Jeremy shrugged. "Perks of working with a seer," he said, like that explained it all.

"A seer?" Michael asked in alarm, and apparently that meant more to him then it meant to Gavin. Nothing new there.

"Yep," Jeremy affirmed. "And you're going to need me in a few seconds..." He checked the watch on his wrist. He held up three fingers, put one down when Michael stiffened and bolted out of the room. He put down another when Gavin looked at him quizzically and the last one went down as Michael rushed back into the room.

"Ray's gone," he said, breathless, too shocked to show any proper emotion.

"What?!" Gavin shouted. "What do you mean gone?!"

"I mean gone! His window was open and-!"

Jeremy cleared his throat. "I think I could probably shed some light on what's going on and what we're going to have to do."

"We?" Gavin asked.

"Well," Jeremy spread his hands. "You're going to need someone to go to the Hunter's Guild."

* * *

  
A few blocks away two men were conferring quietly.

"Did you get it?" one asked the other.

"Sure did," the second one said, casually tossing what looked like a sphere of clear quartz up and down.

"Good. That was... easier than I expected it to be."

"It was almost like it was..."

"Tired."

"Yeah, that."

The first man shrugged. "I guess even monsters get worn out sometimes."

The second grinned. "Sure, but that just makes our job that much easier."

The first rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Geoff. We have to get back."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Jack," he muttered, slipping the sphere into his pocket. Then the street was empty once again, as if no one had been there at all.


	8. Leave Him Alone

"Ok," Ray said to his ceiling. "Ok."

He could deal with this. Probably. It wasn't like he hadn't ever had to deal with weird shit before. Michael's disappearance was proof enough of that. It had been surreal, everyone suddenly pretending like Michael had never existed, having nearly no proof of his friend besides the few odds and ends Michael had left at his house. Ray rubbed his eyes and tried not to think about how, knowing what he did now, there was a high chance that they weren't pretending.

He had never gathered enough courage to ask Michael's parents what happened. He'd always been afraid of the answer, that he'd died, or he ran away. Or he left because of Ray. He kind of wished he had asked now, but then he remembered how Michael had looked in his living room and thought better of it. He really didn’t want to know.

He found more comfort in not knowing. And now that he knew... whatever it was he knew, he felt a terrible weight in his chest. What the hell had happened to Michael to make him so... stiff and worried? He shifted constantly, like he half expected something to burst through the walls or floor and start attacking him. He looked at the world like it was an enemy and Ray didn't like it.

He remembered vividly the bright eyed boy he knew years ago. The one that kissed him on an old playground then left him there. He hadn't come back after that, and maybe that clouded Ray's judgement, but he'd lived without him for so long he couldn't help but feel a degree of relief. At least he wasn't dead. At least now they could continue on.

But... Michael didn't remember him. He didn't know what they used to be and, if he was honest, Ray didn't either. The kiss had been a spur of the moment thing, quick and unpracticed, and there had never been anything to follow it up. Thinking about it now Michael must have known that he wasn't going to see Ray again. And yet he didn't even say goodbye.

Ray sighed heavily, shifting onto his side. He stared across his room, eyes drawn to the mirror hung up on the back of his closet door. He swallowed and shifted onto his back again. He wasn't thinking about... that. He wasn't. If he never thought about it again it would be too soon.

But... God, fuck, how long? Should he have known? Had he known? Was... it there so long that he just grew used to it? If so, how much did that affect him? How much of him was effected? How much of him was himself and how much of himself was the... demon?

Ray found it was suddenly hard to breathe and he screwed his eyes shut and balled his fists into his blankets. He wasn't thinking about it. It wasn't real it wasn't...

There was a thump, and Ray's eyes flew open. It took him a few seconds to realize he was now sitting heavily back on his knees in front of his mirror. He let out a strangled gasp and stumbled to his feet, away from the mirror. He felt something soothing around his shoulders, a change in air pressure or a ghost of a thought in his mind, trying to calm him down

Both hands grabbed fistfuls of his hair. "Stop, stop, stop," he whispered frantically. "I- I- whatever the fuck you're doing, stop." He felt it hesitantly withdraw, and he hated that he knew what it was. He hated that this had become his new reality. That he had to deal with a fucking demon in his head.

Most people just had to deal with crushes and murders. Normal people had to deal with bills and jobs and homes and families. They didn't even have to consider the fact that shit like demons could be real. They didn't have to deal with one _in their head._ They didn't have to deal with their childhood crush coming back and simultaneously shattering their reality.

"I- fuck, dude, I can't- I can't do this," he said, burying his face in his hands. He felt the strangely comforting presence reinstate itself and Ray found he didn't have the energy to say anything in protest. He let his eyes slip closed and he felt his back hit the wall and his legs slowly fold, letting his body sit heavily on the ground, which was weird, since he was fairly certain he had been sitting a while ago...

"C-can't you... I don't know, leave? Why are you here?" Ray asked, somehow already knowing the answer. There was a complicated feeling that built up somewhere in his stomach, a resigned no, and Ray sighed. He hated it, he hated the fact that he had no control over this, but if this was going to be his new reality he would have to deal with it.

"We're going to have to make some rules, dude," Ray mumbled, not sure how loud he had to be for the thing in his head to hear him. He felt something that might have been agreement, and it was a strange sensation. It was almost like he was feeling it, like it came from him, but at the same time, knowing what he knew, it was painfully obvious what was causing it.

With a jolt he realized that, had he not known, he would have thought it was just himself. He wondered if he'd ever acted out on emotions that weren't even his own. The demon was silent and Ray felt sick.

"First rule," Ray said shakily. "You can't change how I feel about something. If I make a decision it is mine and you can't change it."

He felt something that might have been indignation. Ray laughed shakily at that. "Look, dude, you might have been here a while, but that doesn't mean I really know you. And calling you a demon doesn't really inspire confidence."

More indignation. Then Ray heard something, and the smile on his face died. His heart leapt in his throat as he heard it again. There was something outside his window, something moving and talking. A person. Or people, he amended, noting the two different cadences in the muffled conversation. Ray's eyes widened as something scraped against his window.

Darkness started creeping into his vision and he felt himself stand up. He grit his teeth and balled his hands into fists, shaking his head violently. "No," he said, and the darkness retreated. He had to put a hand out to catch himself once he had total control of his legs again. There was another scratch, and this time it was the window being pushed open.

Ray started, barely catching a glimpse of boots on his carpet. He spun around and rushed to the door to the rest of his apartment, to Michael and Gavin and safety. He jiggled the handle and found it wouldn't open. He tried to unlock it, but it didn't help. His heart was pounding and he was having a hard time thinking rationally.

He suddenly jerked and something sparked and shattered where his head had been a second ago. Ray yelped and rolled as it happened again. It almost looked like fireworks except... stickier. And silent.

There were two men in his room. They wore clothing similar to Michael's, normal enough to blend in but comfortable for fighting in. "H-hey, what's-" he was cut off when one of the two men - this one with a ginger beard - made a sweeping motion through the air with his hands and suddenly he was holding an axe. Ray wanted to pass out and escape this situation.

The black was back around his eyes, but tentatively, like it was asking permission. "Ok," he mumbled. "I know I don't want to deal with this, but I also don't want to give a demon permission to possess me."

The other one - this one with a weirdly cartoonish handlebar mustache - passed his hands through the air and brandished twin knives. Ok, maybe he should rethink letting the demon handle this, especially since his situation seemed to be getting steadily worse.

"Come quietly," the one with a beard said. Ray couldn't help but think that he didn't sound like a villain. He wondered if that made him the villain in this story. Or the unwitting accomplice. Either way he was definitely unwitting. "Please. We don't have to fight."

"I- what?" Ray sputtered. "I- you- what the fuck are you talking about?" He tried to shout, but it came out more like a strangled yell. He found it was hard to breath, his lungs feeling constricted and shallow.

"Ok, so we're doing this," the one with a mustache said, and launched himself at Ray.

The next thing he knew Mustache was on the ground under his foot. But it was only for a second, because he twisted and knocked Ray flat on his ass. He didn't have time to feel embarrassed because the darkness was quickly crawling over his eyes and he knew, even if he hated it, that this was more then he could handle.

He got the vague feeling of moving, and when he focused he could feel himself breathing heavily and his heart pounding. But it was strangely distant, like it was happening to someone else. Even the sting on his cheek was distant. The lead in his limbs belonged to someone else.

Then, with a shock, something ice cold touched the back of his neck and he was back in control and everything hurt. The ice spread, and the faces of the two intruders swam in front of his eyes. Then blackness covered him and his room was soon empty.

* * *

 

A teenager sat on a swing set alone, slowly pumping his legs back and forth. He hummed quietly to himself, his face red and embarrassed, but immensely happy. The swing next to him was still swinging and he glanced over at it, touching his lips and feeling his face burn again as he remembered the hasty kiss Michael had planted on them moments ago.

He had never expected to kiss anyone. He never really even planned to go looking for it. But, hey, there was a first time for everything, and that just made it that much more special.

Michael had been his best – and really only – friend for a few years now. They’d shared almost everything with each other, both in the sense of physical possessions and more intimate secrets. Of course, there were things they could never admit to each other, such as their families and the things said between parents, but school gossip was free game.

They made it a routine, hanging out at Ray’s house one week, then Michael’s the next. Most of the time they'd play games at Michael's house - usually Banjo Kazooie - or hang out at the playground they'd definitely outgrown. He never thought their friendship would ever become anything but that, friends. Evidently, he was wrong. 

He felt a grin break out on his face as he raced home, mood higher than it had been in a long time. 

It was the last time he saw Michael for years. 

* * *

  
"Ray..."

He groaned, bringing his hands up to his face and pressing his palms into his eyes. "Just let me sleep for five more minutes," he mumbled, hoping he would be left alone. Really, what was so important that he had to wake up right this second?

"Ray," he heard, this time clearer and more urgent. He resisted the urge to groan. "Ray, you need to get up."

He blinked blearily and squinted up at the figure leaning over him. He couldn't properly see who it was through his heavy eyes and the voice wasn't familiar. He couldn't imagine what was so important that he had to get up when he was so tired...

"Ray!" the voice insisted, but it was warped and far away and Ray found he could ignore it without a problem. Someone made an exasperated sound somewhere above him. "Come on, you must get up."

Ray kept his eyes firmly closed. He just wanted to sleep. Was that too much to ask?

There was an exasperated sigh. "Forgive me for this."

Ray only had a split second to wonder what the voice was talking about before it felt like his entire body was on fire. He gasped and kicked and sat up as quickly as he could, patting his hands over his arms trying to tamp out the fire. Except... he felt fine and there was no fire anywhere. He blinked in confusion. "What...?"

"I apologize," a voice next to him said, and Ray tilted his head at the stranger that was talking to him. Something about him - and somehow he knew that he was the right pronoun - seemed... off. Like he wasn't supposed to look like he did. "You wouldn't wake up."

He wasn't a bad looking guy. His hair was light and his eyes were a strangely piecing blue. There was a circle of gold resting on top of his head and his clothes made him look like he'd just come from a ren fair. The only problem was that Ray had absolutely no idea who he was. Or, he realized with a start, where he was.

It looked like... well, nothing. Everything was a washed out sort of white, a white that didn't give off any light and somehow made the entire area seem malevolent. Ray didn't like being here, but he didn't know where "here" was, so he couldn’t very well start planning his escape.

Ray must have spent too much time in silence because the stranger next to him cleared his throat. "Oh, right," Ray said, focusing on him again. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright," the stranger insisted, and Ray wondered briefly why he talked like that. "It was just... well, you wouldn't wake. I was growing concerned."

"I- what?" Ray asked, feeling like he was missing something obvious. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

Something passed over the stranger's face. "Oh," he said, "As a matter of fact, you do."

Ray was about to call the stranger out on his cryptic bullshit, but instead he found himself trying to place the face and the voice. He found he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried. He had never seen, nor had he heard anyone quite like the stranger before. So why, then, did he seem weirdly familiar? But then, with a jolt, he remembered what had happened. He touched the back of his neck but didn't feel anything.

The stranger seemed weirdly pleased. "Ah, you remember?"

Ray felt his hands begin to shake. He blinked rapidly and got quickly to his feet. The stranger - no, he wasn't a stranger at all - followed suit, seemingly concerned. He felt the concern somewhere in his stomach, twisting itself into knots. "G-get away from me," was all he could think to say.

The demon seemed disappointed. "Please, Ray, I would have thought we'd moved past this."

"S-stop, stop talking, s-stop-" Ray cut himself off, gripping his arms in an attempt to get his hands to stop shaking so visibly. "I- don't- how?"

The demon winced. "Ah. It seems I am not as adept at defending you as I once thought."

"I- what the fuck does that even mean?" Ray asked, exasperation one of the many emotions running through him. Mostly, though, he was just scared.

The demon smiled, and he knew it was supposed to be comforting, but Ray wasn't comforted. And that fact was probably directly related to how sharp the demon's teeth were. "Normally, I wouldn't be able to talk to you," he said measuredly. Like this happened every day. "But since we are under... unique circumstances, I can."

"What kind of... unique circumstances?" Ray asked, knowing he wouldn't like the answer.

"We have been captured by two Hunters," the demon stated, saying "hunter" in a way that seemed like it would be capitalized. Like Ray was supposed to know what that meant.

"Ok... what does that mean and why would they... capture me?"

"Ah... the Hunters are a group of elite fighters, trained from adolescence to fight... monsters. Your friend Michael used to be one of them." The demon paused and seemed almost embarrassed. "And I'm afraid it may have been my fault you were captured."

Ray couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. "Why?"

"Well," he began, and Ray got the feeling there was a lengthy explanation incoming. "When a demon is... active, they give off a unique energy signature that can be sensed by most living things. And... tracked by any magical creature. Usually this results in an increase in monster activity in the area and, since I cannot leave, I sought out the next best thing, which is a null person. Your other friend, Gavin. His ability to absorb magic helped keep you safe for longer than you would have been had you not lived with him."

Ray opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again.

"But eventually someone would notice, and, they did. The Hunters found out about us about a month ago and has sent multiple Hunters to try and capture you. Every time before this, I have been able to defend you. But this time I failed, and I am sorry that I could not keep you safe."

Ray felt strangely sympathetic toward the demon. "It's... it's ok, dude. Don't beat yourself up about it." The demon gave him a small smile, and mercifully didn't show any teeth. Ray thought of something else. "What... um, what should I call you?"

"Ah... my real name is no longer important, so... whatever you would like, I suppose."

There was a pause as Ray thought. Then, with confidence, "How about Ryan?"

The demon tilted his head and considered it. "I like it," he finally said. "Where did you get it."

"It's the name of a kid who used to throw eggs at my mom's car when I was little."

"Ah," Ryan said, "Of course."

There was an awkward pause. Ray took the initiative to break it. "Um... not to be rude but... why can't you leave?"

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck and seemed hesitant to answer. "Ah... well, you see, I may have made a mistake that... stuck me to you."

"I don't like the sound of that," Ray said flatly. "What mistake."

"Ah... no, I wouldn't either. And I was... arrogant. A demon can exist in your world without possessing someone, but it takes energy to construct a body and, when a demon with their own body is damaged, they cannot heal properly without a vessel to help. Because demons can't produce their own magic they have to stay with the vessel for an extended amount of time. However long it takes for them to heal."

"So you're... hurt?"

"Not anymore," Ryan said sheepishly, and Ray felt like he was pulling teeth.

"Alright, then why can't you leave?"

"Because of the way I was injured I unwittingly became... stuck to your soul. We are now what the Hunters call an Amalgamate, two souls fused together permanently. Or at least they think it's permanent."

Ray felt himself sit down hard. "Well," he said, voice strangled, "I would have appreciated being taken on a date first."

"I'm... sorry?" Ryan said in a way that implied Ray's joke had fallen short.

"It's all good, dude," Ray lied. "How... how long have you- yeah."

Mercifully Ryan seemed to understand what he was asking. "Not long after you met Michael."

Ray felt his head spin. That was... he was so young. He grew up with a demon in his head.

"If it makes you feel any better there was a long period of time where I was dormant. I didn't affect you." Ryan tilted his head and winced as he said, "Much."

And Ray couldn't help but think what he had been thinking earlier, about how much of him was actually him and how much was the demon. He couldn't find the courage to ask. So, instead, he asked, "So... every time I blacked out... that was you."

"Yes," Ryan said, and he didn't seem apologetic about it at all. Thinking back... Ray found he couldn't think of a single time he'd came to from a blackout where he wasn't safe at home. He'd always felt tired afterwards but... he'd never been hurt. He supposed that made up slightly for the panic that followed every black out. Actually, no, it didn't. He still wasn't over that time he missed an entire day to a blackout. Or how afterwards he sometimes woke up in a panic, thinking that he'd missed another day of his life, or a week, or even a month.

Ray sighed. "I just have this one request, ok?"

"By all means," Ryan urged.

"Alright, so, no... possessing me without permission. Also, I don't know the next time we'll be able to talk with mouths so... I'll have to think of some other way to communicate." Ray noticed Ryan shuffling minutely. "What?"

"What if it's... what if there was an emergency? Or you couldn't give consent because you were knocked out? Or if you didn't know there was danger? Or-"

"Fine!" Ray shouted. "God, you're like an overprotective parent. If you have a good reason you are allowed to... do shit." Ray found being any more specific than that made his stomach turn. "But it better be life or death."

"Of course," Ryan nodded.

"So..." Ray trailed off. "Do you... like any video games?"

Ryan burst into laughter and Ray couldn't help but smile, just a little bit. They lapsed into a weirdly comfortable silence. Ray was content to just sit there... but... there was just one problem.

"Where are we?" he asked, and he immediately regretted it. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Like I said, we've been captured by Hunters. They have a... unique way of transporting prisoners."

It was said so calmly it took Ray a second to realize he should be freaking out about this. "I'm a prisoner?" he squeaked.

"Yes," Ryan admitted apologetically. "And it seems our time has run out. I am sorry for any grievances I have caused you in the past."

"What-?" Ray asked, but noticed something strange about the whiteness around them. It was slowly getting darker, spiderwebs of cracks forming and slowly crumbling away. When Ray focused on Ryan he found the demon had disappeared. "Wha- Ryan? What's happening?"

There was a flash of light and Ray had to shield his eyes with his arms. As the light faded Ray squinted at his new environment. It almost looked like a gym or auditorium. It was huge, with high ceilings and polished floors. He was alone, but somehow he didn't feel that way.

"Hello?" he shouted, his voice echoing across the room. "I-is anyone there? Where am I?"

A mechanical voice somewhere above him said, "Begin trial number one."

"What?" Ray asked thin air. He felt sick to his stomach but at least he wasn't exhausted anymore. He wondered briefly how long he had been talking to Ryan.

That thought was quickly chased away by hot breath ruffling his hair. Ray stiffened and almost didn't dare to turn around. The roar that shook the walls practically pushed Ray to the ground. He quickly turned to face... whatever it was. It looked like a giant bull that stood on two legs, its beady eyes zeroing in on Ray. He gulped. "Ryan, in case you were wondering, now would be considered an emergency."

There was no response.


	9. An Unfair Fight

Gavin shifted awkwardly in the red pleather seat of the diner they were currently in. “They,” being Jeremy and Michael, arguably the most important people currently at the table. Gavin, even with the extensive explanations Michael had provided him, still felt severely out of the loop, which was nothing new, but still.

For the others, this was their life. They had had years to acclimate to this part of the world, the... magical part. Gavin had seen a monster for the first time only three months ago. He got the feeling he was only there as a formality, because they had used his - and Ray's - apartment to cook up this plan, if it could even really be called a plan. They'd done their best but Gavin still wasn't completely sure what was going on.

"So..." he said quietly, almost afraid to raise his voice. What if someone was listening? What if there were people watching them right then? Gavin slumped down further, his chin only barely peeking about the questionably clean table. He took a deep breath, reminded himself that security cameras existed, and asked, "This dude we're meeting... you used to... work with him?"

"More like he used to mentor me," Michael shrugged. "He's a good guy. Probably one of the best in the Guild. He's the one that... got me out in the first place."

"You say that like you... didn't have a choice about whether you stayed or left," Gavin said tentatively, wondering how much he could ask without making Michael uncomfortable. Gavin wondered how much he could ask without the answer making him uncomfortable.

"Well I did, he just helped give me a reason to get out." Michael shrugged, but then said, a bit embarrassed, "But... some subterfuge was necessary."

"Oh," Gavin mumbled, playing with the straw wrappers he'd stolen from everyone else. His leg bounced under the table and he wondered what was happening to Ray at this very moment.

He desperately hoped he was alright. They'd grown close over the months they'd known each other. Sure, Ray was a bit prickly and had an array of ticks and strange habits, but he was still likable. He wasn't the best person in the world but he certainly didn't deserve the shit life kept throwing at him. Like, being possessed by a demon? That was kind of shitty.

Gavin could relate, at least a little bit. Apparently there was a good chance he wasn't human. He didn't know how to feel about that so he clung to the fact that it could just be some weird blood way down his family tree. Whatever it was, apparently he could... absorb other people's magic. And he'd been doing it to Ray for months now. He was pretty sure that was a good thing, though, according to what Jeremy had said about it hiding him from anyone who'd want to hurt him.

"When's he getting here?" Gavin asked, breaking the silence that had settled over the small group.

Michael made an annoyed noise and rolled his eyes. Jeremy took the initiative and answered. "He should be here soon, Gavin. You just have to be patient."

"Uuuuugh," Gavin whined, letting his feet stretch out and touch the other seat where Michael was sitting. "But that's boring."

Jeremy shrugged. "We could talk?"

"Ok," Gavin said, struggling to sit up straighter so he could have a level conversation with Jeremy. "Where'd you learn to do your magic shit? Or, I assume you can, since I haven't actually seen it yet."

Jeremy laughed and reached out to take one of the straw wrappers Gavin had mutilated. He held it up, the two ends pinched between two fingers. Then, with a flourish, he waved it through the air and hit Gavin in the head with it. Gavin let out an indignant squawk and rubbed the top of his head. That had hurt...

"Woah!" Gavin practically shouted, earning glares from some of the other customers. He didn't care all that much, especially since Jeremy was now holding a slightly crumpled strip of gold. He snatched it out of Jeremy's hand, only to pout when he ended up with nothing but a torn bit of paper. "Not fair!" Gavin whined.

Jeremy raised an eyebrow, a small smile flickering onto his face. "That wasn't me."

Gavin crossed his arms and pouted. "Oh, good. So I just cheated myself. Great. I want a refund."

Jeremy pressed a hand against his mouth and snickered loudly. Michael rolled his eyes but there was a smile creeping onto his face as well.

Jeremy stopped laughing abruptly when they heard, "Hello, Michael. It's good to see you again."

The first thing Gavin thought when he saw Michael's old mentor for the first time was that he didn't look much like a fighter. Gavin felt his face get red when he realized he'd said that out loud.

"And you'd be right. I'm actually one of the Guild's field medics. My... partner is just reckless so I have to have some offensive skills," he said, and held out a hand for Gavin to shake while simultaneously sliding into the booth to sit next to Michael. "I'm Jack, by the way."

"Gavin," he mumbled, not sure where he stood with Jack just yet. After Jeremy introduced himself in a similar manner Gavin couldn't help but ask, "You, uh, you can help us get our friend back?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Is that what this is about?" he asked Michael.

"Er... yeah," Michael said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you, uh, remember who you sent me out to look for?"

"I do," Jack said tentatively.

“Well... I found him."

Jack suddenly sat up straighter, a smile spreading across his face. "Michael, that's great-!"

"But some Hunters took him," Michael finished, and Jack's smile fell off and shattered on the ground.

"Oh." Then, he blinked, and looked concerned. "Michael," he said measuredly, "How long ago was this?"

"Like- a day ago? Twelve hours or so?" Michael shrugged, and Gavin realized he didn't know just how long had passed either.

"Ah," Jack said, and looked chagrined. "Well, er, there is a possibility that... that one of those Hunters was me."

"What?" Gavin asked, pressing his back against the back of his seat, as if he could fade away, somewhere far from this Hunter that took his friend.

"Hear me out, please," Jack said hastily, obviously catching on to Gavin’s discomfort. He looked genuine, nervous even, but Gavin desperately wanted to say no, to run to the Guild himself and break Ray out, but he knew he couldn't, so he didn't say anything. "There has been... demonic activity around this city lately, so the Guild sent out some Hunters to find out what was causing it and bring it back. Well..." Here, Jack winced. "No one could do it. The Hunters kept coming back bloody and humiliated. Apparently they'd all been bested by this demon. So, after about... two months of this, the Guild got tired and sent me and Geoff out to handle it."

"And you succeeded," Michael said, voice tight. Gavin could practically feel the barely constrained rage radiating off Michael.

"Michael," Jack pleaded, "You have to believe me. I had no idea that it was your-"

"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't," Michael said in a way that implied he absolutely didn't believe what Jack was saying. Gavin wasn't sure either, but he'd bet good money on Michael's intuition.

Jack looked uncomfortable and pitying, a strange combination. "I promise you I will help get him out. But..." Jack hesitated. "You do know he's... dangerous, right?"

Here, it was Gavin who found himself talking, a vitriol he didn’t know he possessed dripping from his every word. "Bullshit," he spat, and he didn't know why he'd suddenly rounded on Jack so harshly. "Ray can't kill a spider, he eats bags of chips for diner, and he barely sleeps ten hours a week. He couldn't be dangerous if he tried."

"Then it seems you don't know your friend as well as you think you do," Jack said, and it was patronizing and Gavin hated it.

"He is possessed by a _demon,_ " Gavin said, stressing the last word as much as humanly possible. "Get the demon out of him and let him live his life."

"It's not... that simple," Jack said slowly, trying to placate Gavin. "You see, your friend is in a very... unstable position. He is what we have started calling an Amalgamate."

Gavin blinked. "Ok," he said, and tried to sound authoritative. It didn't work. "What's that, then?"

"It's when two or more souls become so intertwined that they cannot be separated. Usually, this results in... volatile behavior and an unstable personality."

Gavin's face twisted in confusion. "But... that doesn't sound like Ray at all. Sure, he gets a little... disorientated sometimes, but that's it. He's never been... violent." Then, something occurred to him. "The Hunters the Guild sent out. They were fighting the demon."

"It's... a possibility," Jack said, and Gavin knew he was still fighting against this. "But we don't know for sure. The Amalgamates we've dealt with in the past haven't acted like he does."

Gavin felt himself get cold. "What do you mean. What did you do to him?"

Michael stiffed and looked practically terrified. Jeremy remained as he was, but Gavin caught the raw worry that flashed across his face. "The Guild has deemed it necessary to... gauge just how powerful he is."

"You're making him fight," Michael said with conviction. "Jack, you need to get him out of there before- before he fucking dies or something!"

"I can't, I don't have any jurisdiction over the tests," Jack protested, and he seemed genuinely torn up about it. Gavin wasn't sure he believed the act.

Michael shifted so he was facing Jack and looking him dead in the eye. "You have jurisdiction over people's health. Demand to check him after every fight, pull him out when he can't fight anymore and make sure he's kept in the medical ward until Jeremy can get him out."

"Me?" Jeremy squeaked, sounding small and unsure.

"Yes, you," Michael snapped, and no one dared to protest. "The Guild holds rogue magicians sometimes; an alchemist wouldn't make them bat an eyelash. When you get in you need to find Ray and get him out.”

"And how will I get in?" Jeremy asked, understanding what he had to do and accepting it, albeit reluctantly. Gavin wasn’t sure he would contest Michael either.

Jack still looked hesitant, but it seemed he had deemed what Michael had proposed a calculated risk. He pulled out something that looked like a sphere of clear crystal. "With this."

And they outlined the rest of the plan, Gavin just barely understanding everything, but feeling productive anyways. They were going to get Ray back. And they could figure out what to do afterwards when Ray was safe and sound. _Just stay safe for now, Ray,_ Gavin thought, hoping he could make it reality by sheer force of will.  


* * *

  
Ray found himself moving before he really processed what was happening. A large paw... hand... thing swiped down at the space he had just been, sending the ground spiking up in an unnatural way around the impact point. Ray knew, in that moment, that he wasn't getting out of this unscathed.

He also knew, with a strange certainty, that Ryan could not help him. Figures. Turns out he has a powerful demon in his corner and the second anything terribly dangerous happens he loses the only advantage he has.

He felt something grip the back of his shirt and pick him up. He had a split second of panic before he was sailing through the air. Something bubbled up inside him, something hot and foreign, and when his body hit the wall the smooth surface cracked but he was no worse for the wear. He was, however, winded.

As he tried to regain his breath he looked up dazedly, noting through the fog in his mind that there was now a bull-creature charging toward him... oh, he should probably move-

Too late.

Something flickered in front of him, a thin shield, but the monster tossed its head and his only protection shattered like nothing. The next thing he knew a horn was embedded in his shoulder and he was dangling like a rag doll, unable to process what was going on.

Black was creeping into his vision and it wasn't Ryan this time.

Somewhere in his brain he must have figured out what to do, because his hands slowly and shakily rose up, clasping the horn. White light snaked down the horn, through the creature's fur, all the way down to its hooves. There was an almighty _crack_ and suddenly Ray's feet hit the floor and his knees buckled. He was covered in black ash and dark red blood, slowly seeping out of a wound adrenalin wouldn't let him feel.

He blinked sluggishly, trying to process just what happened. He'd been... attacked. Yeah, that's what it was. He was... he was in a room and... ok, what if he focused on what he did know instead of what he didn't? That sounded good.

His name was Ray. There was a demon in his head that he called Ryan. He was pretty sure he was going to die by thirty five if he kept on with his unhealthy habits. He lived in an apartment with Gavin. His first kiss was Michael. There was someone kneeling in front of him, waving his hands around and cleaning up the ash with magic. Yep, this was his reality now.

He hissed when he felt a pinch on his shoulder. He reached his hand up to touch it, but another hand intercepted it. "You don't want to touch it. It'll still hurt."

Ray furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the person kneeling in front of him. He tried to think of something to say, something to ask, but all that came out was, "I don't know you."

The man laughed, and Ray realized he wasn't much older than he was. "No, you don't. I'm Caleb. I'm a medic. I'm here to make sure you don't die."

Ray tried to touch his shoulder again, forgetting that Caleb was still holding his arm in a surprisingly strong grip. "Can I go home?"

He shook his head. "No. Sorry. You've still got a few tests to go."

"But I'm tired," Ray whined, and Caleb rolled his eyes, a smile touching his lips. He pulled something out - Ray couldn't see what it was, but it looked vaguely cylindrical - and jabbed Ray's arm with it. Immediately, he sat up, eyes widening and heart beating faster. Suddenly he noticed the two, large people in excessive body armor standing behind Caleb. He knew with a strange certainty that these people viewed him as a threat.

"There, that should help you get through this next fight," Caleb said lightly, patting Ray on the arm. He found he couldn't focus on one thing for very long, so his eyes were bouncing around the room, from the smooth wall that had been cracked a second ago to the fact that Caleb was now leaving...

"H-hey! Wait!" he shouted, but there was no response.

A computerized voice said, "Begin trial two," and Ray's heart sank.

 _Here we go again,_ he thought.

Someone giggled, a light and fierce sound. Ray felt something skitter up his spine as he slowly looked up...

A girl's face, upside down and framed with dark hair. Her eyes were wide and... oh, there were five of them, all focused on him. Good.

Something moved near the ceiling, something black and long, and Ray barely had time to move before another one came at him again, and this time he was able to identify it as a spider leg. Good. Ray moved as fast as he could, dodging the many dark limbs. He was barely able to keep ahead of them, much less attack back. He felt something push his back, sending him sprawling forward into something sticky.

Ray tried to move, but found he couldn't. No matter how hard he struggled the sticky substance held tight. Wait... it was webbing. He was fighting a spider-person. Good...

The giggling started up again, and Ray barely had time to process that the girl's nails looked wickedly sharp before he felt a sting across his face and something warm dripping down his cheeks. He tasted copper and tried to cough, only to find something covering his mouth. More webbing.

He closed his eyes, trying to think of something to do. He felt the girl climb onto the webbing, slowly spinning more around his body, and he started to panic. He struggled and pulled and tried to summon something - anything - to get him out of this situation before he asphyxiated or something.

Then there was hot breath on his neck and a prick and he felt his body relax without his consent, a thick fog rolling in his head...

What was he doing again? He wasn't sure, but wherever he was was comfortable, and his chest felt empty and black was creeping into his vision, and it would just be so easy to just sleep... yeah, he thought, eyes slipping closed, he could just sleep.

There was a voice somewhere in his head, distant and muffled, and it sounded like it was yelling. He wondered why anyone felt the need to yell when he was just trying to sleep.

"Please-!" The voice became suddenly clear, and Ray wanted to lift his hands up and cover his ears, but his arms were bound and the idea was whisked away by the fog.

"You're dying, Ray!"

No, he was sleeping. Geez, talk about over dramatic.

"Ray!" And this time the voice sounded more frustrated than anything. Kind of like a dad. Ray felt his face stretch into a smile at the thought.

Then there was a jerk, and his body arced, eyes flying open, but he couldn't see anything. It was all dark.

Something hot brushed over his arms, there was a shriek and the sound of snapping rope, and suddenly Ray was lying on the floor, sucking in as much air as his lungs could hold, trying desperately to chase away the fog remaining in his head.

"I- I can't-" he took a few deep breaths, "F-feel my- arms," he puffed out, something like a laugh bubbling in his throat. "F-fuck, cut it close, R-Rye."

He felt something touch his arm, something warm spreading through his body. He felt the sting in his face lessen and his eyelids grow heavy. He was fairly certain he couldn't move if he wanted to. Good thing he didn't want to.

"-to the medical ward," someone said. Ray struggled, trying to see who it was, but only caught a flash of ginger hair. "Can't you see he's exhausted?" Ray wanted to protest, but he found he couldn't get his jaw to work.

"But he still has more-"

"He can do them when he's not falling asleep after a fight. Let him sleep and heal properly in the medical ward. Then you can finish your tests." The last part was said with such conviction and animosity that no one contested the voice. Ray was glad.

He felt his body moving, but he was already drifting off to sleep.


	10. A Close Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this chapter a few days ago but randomly lost like all motivation to whoops. But, hey, it's posted now so that's good. On another, completely unrelated note: if you enjoy this fic I'd really appreciate some feedback on it to see how I can improve and all that.

Ray curled into himself on the thin mattress, trying to generate as much heat as he could by rubbing his hands together. He got the distinct feeling of, "Don't be a baby," from Ryan, and Ray rolled his eyes.

"Easy for you to say, dickshit, you don't even have a fucking body." He felt Ryan's exasperation.

Ray was honestly not sure how long he’d been… here, but he was bruised and battered and bone dead tired. He was ready to sleep for thirty years and possibly never wake up again. But, of course, he couldn't, because Ryan kept jerking him awake, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Ray just wanted to sleep, but apparently that was too much to ask.

Ray had absolutely no idea what was going on but, from what he could tell, the people that put him in this… cell thought he would be more of a threat. They were apparently envisioning some giant monster that communicated in grunts and dead bodies. What they'd gotten was an underweight kid who barely managed to get out of each fight alive. And each time it was because Ryan had intervened in some way.

They’d sent him to what Ray assumed was what equated to a med wing and cleaned and bandaged any injury he had. He mostly just sat there silently and didn’t look at the many people standing threateningly around him. Apparently, this was the right thing to do, because they seemed to realize that he probably wouldn't cause trouble, and they started treating him more like a person and less like a thing. They still locked him in a cell, though. And it was cold as fuck. Or maybe he was just used to wearing oversized hoodies 24/7.

Ray tried to sleep again, only to jerk awake just as his eyelids were closing. Ray really wished that Ryan would just chill for once.

Speaking of Ryan, Ray had become frighteningly good at reading the complicated rush of emotions Ryan sent his way whenever he was trying to communicate, but honestly Ray couldn't find it in himself to care that much. Sure, there were still moments where he'd wake up suddenly, in a panic, worrying that he'd blacked out again, but hey, whatever. He had other things to worry about, like his door opening, which it had not done ever since he’d been dumped in here.

He didn't move, hoping that maybe if he stayed still they'd just forget he was there. Or maybe they’d think he was dead and dispose of his body. Either way maybe then he’d be able to sleep. He heard muffled words, then a thud, and the door quickly closed. Ray blinked in surprise, wondering what in the world had just happened. A wave of vague feelings that that were, in essence, "Why don't you just turn around and find out?" came from Ryan.

Ray groaned, but flipped over anyways, hauling himself up into a sitting position. His eyes widened when he saw the body on the ground. Wait... nope, they were breathing. That was good, probably. Unless they'd decided to pit him against some other fucked up monster in his down time. Then that wasn't good.

They (he?) looked normal enough, though. Jeans and a t-shirt, not the epitome of fashion, but Ray could not judge anyone else, especially since he wore the same thing daily like some kind of cartoon character.

"Uh..." Ray mumbled, getting up and slowly edging toward the... person. Yeah, they definitely looked like a person. No extra eyes or anything. He nudged them with his foot, wincing when he realized that probably wasn’t a good idea. That, and it was rude. But, hey, he was already in too deep, so whatever. "Hey, you dead?"

He got a groan in response. Then, the body moved, and managed to sit up with some trouble. It looked like every move he - probably he - made hurt. His... cellmate.... rubbed the back of his head, winced, and proceeded to stretch and pop his joints. Ray winced at every small noise. Ryan was wondering who the hell this was. Ray couldn't help but think he looked remarkably calm for someone who'd just been dumped in a prison. Maybe he was some kind of criminal.

The first thing the stranger said made him wary, and black crept into his vision.

"So, you're Ray, then?"

He stiffened, and felt his teeth bare at this stranger that knew his name. His feet were inching away as he said, through the fog that built up whenever Ryan was worried for their safety, "Depends. Who's asking?"

The stranger smiled, and it seemed genuine enough, but Ryan wouldn't let his body relax. "I'm Jeremy. I know Gavin and Michael."

It felt like something had shocked him. He hadn't heard anything about his friends since he’d gotten dumped in a room with a giant fucking bull. The darkness dissipated and Ray took a few steps closer, as if he was afraid he'd miss anything Jeremy said if he was too far away. "Really? H-how?"

"Well, they wanted to get you out, you need to be out, so it works out."

Ray felt his eyebrows furrow as he tried to decipher just what Jeremy meant by that. He gave up when he realized he could just ask. "What do you mean... I need to be out?"

Jeremy winked. "That particular arc hasn't started yet, so you don't need to know yet. Just know you're more important than you think, Ray."

Ray found he didn't have anything to say to that. Ryan, however, did. There was an ocean of emotions roiling too fast for Ray to interpret. He wasn't sure where it came from, but he was fairly certain it was something deep inside himself that was knocked loose that said, "Bullshit."

Suddenly the ocean was quiet and Jeremy looked perplexed.

"Why do you say that?" Jeremy asked, seeming to not know the answer.

"I mean? I'm just a dude. I'm literally not special in any way. I- I never really did anything in my life. All that's different about me is that there's a demon in my head, and I had nothing to do with that." His hands were shaking and he wasn't sure why. This wasn’t new information; this was something he’d accepted a long time ago. He didn’t know why it felt like he was lying. "Whatever's going on here, I can't be that important. You shouldn't have to risk yourself to get me out."

Ray felt himself lurch and with a gasp and he said, "Sorry, I just have problems with self-worth, so ignore everything I say-"

Ray clamped his mouth shut, both startled and angry. "You- fuck- asshole!" Ray stammered, trying to figure out how to convey properly just how shitty he felt. "We had an agreement!"

Ryan seemed smug, and Ray didn't like it. "Listen, cumslut, you don't get to force me to say something and then be all douchey about it. That's just crossing a line."

Jeremy cleared his throat, and Ray felt his face get red as he realized he had honestly forgotten there was someone else with him. Jeremy looked slightly bemused. "Do you... need to be alone?"

Ray blinked. "Uh... right, sorry, someone's just being an asshole and I won't name names - it's totally Ryan, though - but yeah, with hope it's over now."

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. "Who's Ryan?"

"Well, you have two guesses, and considering there's debatably three people here right now it should be pretty obvious."

Jeremy's face almost broke into a smile, but he reigned it in. "Oh," he said, and the grin was obvious in his voice. "Well, if you're done with your private conversation, then it's only a few minutes before we have to make a move."

"Uh... I don't know if you know this... but this cell block nullifies magic," Ray said, knowing this was true from a combination of Ryan trying to use magic and failing terribly.

Jeremy tossed something at him. It bounced off his chest and clattered on the hard ground. This time Jeremy did smile, a smile that was stretching far to keep him from laughing out loud. Ray sighed and leaned down, picking up the... necklace that Jeremy had thrown at him.

He held it up in front of his face, the rough string holding a pendant digging uncomfortably into his skin. The pendent itself was a light red, almost pink, that seemed to glow faintly. A rose appeared on one side of it, and Ray was fairly certain that hadn’t been there before.

"Alright, you got me," Ray said blandly, "I have no idea what this is."

"It'll help get us out," Jeremy said. "Jack gave it to me. He says it nullifies the null field, which is kind of redundant, but yeah."

Ray shrugged. That sounded just as real as everything else that was going on. He slipped the string over his head, and tucked the pendant under his shirt. "Who's Jack?"

"Another friend of Michael. He's a Hunter here at the Guild."

Ray considered that. On one hand he wanted to vomit all over the floor, on the other he really wanted to get out of here, so he swallowed the sick feeling in his stomach and forced himself not to think about that. He forced out, "Ok. What do we need to do?"

Jeremy's grin stretched wider. "Well, with any hope our distraction has already started..." Suddenly, the lights shifted to a deep red and alarms blared. "Aaaaand, that's our cue. Time to go, Ray."

With that Jeremy walked over to the door, placing two hands on it, and suddenly it collapsed into itself, pouring over the ground, somehow turned to sand. Ok.

"Come on," Jeremy beckoned, already halfway into the hallway. "We have to go now."

Ray felt his head tilt, and his vision was swallowed in black as he heard himself say, "Oh, I _like_ you."

* * *

  
Jack was halfway from the cells to his quarters before the alarms started blaring. He flinched and almost went running on pure instinct. He had to remind himself that this time, unlike most of the other times he could remember this happening, it was only an exercise for the new recruits.

Every six months or so there was a drill to practice the proper procedure to combat a random monster breakout. It had been proven necessary, since the Guild tended to have a breakout at least once a month if they were particularly unlucky. Because of this the drill was mostly for the recruits' benefits.

Jack sped up, hoping to avoid anyone heading out to watch the recruits deal with the monsters. He hoped no one would notice the two extra escapees he'd helped get out. If Jeremy was as skilled as he seemed to think he was, they would make it out in time. Jack didn’t want to stay and watch the recruits struggle and panic, but for the sake of keeping up appearances he would have to.

"Hey, Jack," a voice shouted, and Jack felt his shoulders sag.

He quickly put on a fake smile and turned to face the person that had shouted at him. "Hi, Geoff."

"You going to watch the drill?" Geoff asked, huge, genuine smile on his face. His eyes were bright and excited as he swung an arm around Jack's shoulders. "I heard they're a promising group this year."

Jack carefully extracted himself from Geoff's arms. "Uh... no, actually." If Jack didn't know any better he'd say that Geoff practically deflated at that. "I'm kind of tired. I think I'll just turn in for the night."

Geoff's face practically radiated disapproval. "Yeah? You're a lazy bastard, you know that, Jack?"

He chuckled. "So I've been told, yes."

Geoff opened his mouth, started to say something, but he snapped it shut in an instant, eyes darting behind Jack. He stiffened and crept forward, making almost no sound as he walked. "Did you see that?" he hissed at Jack, and he felt his blood run cold.

"See what?" he asked back, hoping against hope that it wasn't what he thought it was.

"I thought I saw a cloaking spell," Geoff said.

Jack shrugged, hoping to draw Geoff's attention away from the hallway running perpendicular to the one they were walking down. The one that led out of the Guild building. "Well, it must have been a pretty shitty cloak if you saw it."

Geoff shot a look Jack's way, missing the flicker of the cloak just as Jeremy and Ray flickered into view, sprinting around the corner. By the time Geoff turned back around there was nothing left for him to see. But, of course, he didn't need to know that.

Jack should have known Jeremy was exaggerating when he said he was insisting Jack that he could get himself and Ray out of the Guild without being seen.

There was a dull glow and suddenly Geoff's weapons were glimmering in the low light. He glanced back and made a motion for Jack to pull out his weapon as well. Jack sighed, hoping he sounded exasperated and not nervous as all hell, but complied.

Geoff continued on, turning the corner into the next hallway, eyes shifting, calculating, trying to find the source of the disturbance. It took longer than Jack would have liked for him to give up, but eventually his weapons disappeared and he shrugged. "I guess I imagined it."

If Jack had not known Geoff since they had been new recruits side by side all those years ago he wouldn't have caught the edge in his voice. But, as it was, Jack put his guard up. "Yeah, I guess so."

They stood, staring at each other for a few seconds. Jack kept his face carefully passive, but he knew it wouldn't fool Geoff. Sure, it would keep him guessing for a while, but eventually he'd start chasing after the truth. And when that happened he'd have to tell him just what he'd done and why he had to. And, hopefully, by then they would all have settled into their roles comfortably.

* * *

  
Gavin swung his legs, just barely avoiding hitting the thin wall of his apartment, as he hung upside down from his couch. Michael was next to him, swearing up a storm as he was hit by a blue shell in Mario Kart for the second time.

"Damnit, Gavin!" He stomped his foot on the floor and Gavin hoped he didn't get another noise complaint. "You can't just keep in the back so you can get the good power ups!"

Gavin let out a loud laugh. "Jokes on you!" he crowed, falling off the map for the third time. "I'm just naturally this bad."

“FUCK!” Michael shouted, nearly throwing his controller as the race ended, an npc placing first after Michael’s impressive lead the whole time. “You’re a _whore_!”

“Michael! Language!” Gavin reprimanded, still on his second lap. He’d resigned himself to his repeated failures and figured if he couldn’t get anything higher than tenth place then trying hard wasn’t necessary. Besides, he’d much rather mess with Michael.

“Want to go another round?” Michael asked, sinking deeper into the couch, his posture terrible.

“Wait til I finish this round, Michael,” Gavin said, making sure to fall off the map at every opportunity.

“Ugh!” Michael groaned, getting up and walking over to the kitchen. “Tell me when you finish,” he called, and Gavin couldn’t help but smile. He heard Michael take out something that clinked like glass from the fridge. That was… probably alcohol, despite the fact that Gavin had never actually bought any.

It was… a little strange, having Michael hanging out almost perpetually. Gavin was almost certain that he had a home somewhere else, since every so often he would disappear for a while, off to “work,” which Gavin took to mean fighting giant, killer monsters. Because that was normal now.

He winced, knowing that no matter how many times he told himself that, it would never be completely true. At least not soon, because fighting monsters and magic and all of the shit Michael brought with him was a far cry from what he expected when he came to America.

But either way, it was… nice, having Michael practically move in as a third tenant. Not that his apartment was meant to house three people, but still. It had enough rooms to make it work. Plus, Michael tended to spend a lot of time in Ray’s room, and while he thought that was a little creepy, he was pretty sure they had dated at one point, so he didn’t say anything. Plus, he really missed Ray, and having Michael there to distract him from that was nice.

They’d taken to playing co-op or vs games to distract each other from their mutual worry for Ray. Most of the time it worked, but since the sun had set on the second day of Ray’s absence, even the games weren’t helping distract them.

There was a knock on the door and, since he still hadn’t finished his race, he called to Michael, “Hey, could you get that?”

“Fine,” Michael whined, heading toward the door and opening it.

Gavin could just barely hear Jeremy say, “Is this a good place to crash?” and the shattering of glass on the floor.

Gavin immediately abandoned the game, practically sprinting to his front door, and seeing Ray being practically suffocated by Michael. Gavin couldn’t help the grin that was breaking out across his face. Ray was home. Everything was going to be fine now. He hoped.

“Hey, X-Ray,” Gavin said, barely above a whisper. Ray’s eyes seemed somehow distant as they fell on Gavin. He felt his smile falter. “Ok, not X-Ray.”

Michael pushed away from Ray suddenly, understanding what Gavin meant. He passed his hand through the air and suddenly he was holding a sword, pointed at Not Ray. At the demon. Gavin felt himself shiver.

Ray’s eyes glanced passively at the sword almost poking his face. Then they raised back up, staring at Michael, before they flickered closed and Ray collapsed.

Michael shouted, suddenly panicked, and dropped the sword. Gavin just barely processed that it flickered and dissolved before it hit the floor. He was more concerned with his best friend now laying partly on the floor, partly in Michael’s arms. It seemed a bit overly dramatic or even romantic, especially since Ray was clearly exhausted from whatever had happened.

“Ray?” Michael asked, gently shaking him. But, since it was Michael, “gently” translated into nearly shaking his head off his neck. “Ray?”

There was a weak groan, and Ray’s eyes opened to slits. “Geez, Michael, it’s almost like I got kidnapped or something.”

Michael let out a choked laugh. “I’m glad you’re alright, Ray.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t go that far,” he sighed. “But I’m working on it.”


End file.
